


Will for Dinner

by UncreativeKitten



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blindfolds, Blood Kink, Body Worship, Bondage, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Bottom Will Graham, But also his posess Will Graham juice, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Choking, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is Whipped, Hannibal Lector drinks his respect Will Graham juice, Hannibal is ambigiously evil, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension, Sexual Violence, Smut, So Much Sexual Tension, Switching, Top Hannibal Lecter, Top Will Graham, Will Graham is So Done, imagined vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28264095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UncreativeKitten/pseuds/UncreativeKitten
Summary: This one's for all the kinkmisters out there, who love character plot with their smut.Hannibal won't stop inviting Will to dinner.“No,” Will denied. “Thank you,” he added. Hannibal sighed and crossed his arm, graciously accepting defeat.“Alas,” Hannibal said. “The prodigal son is postponed another day.”“Are you implying that I am wasteful?” Will asked. The prodigal son was selfish and arrogant, squandering his fortune and father’s good will—hence why he returned. Will did not expand on the other possible implication, which was that Will, as the prodigal son, would eventually return on his knees begging for forgiveness to his accepting "father"—Hannibal.“Only that my invitation is always open and that I am a patience man.”So, it was the latter implication. Will could not bring himself to look in Hannibal’s eyes, but he could practically smell the slight smile on the man’s face.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 46
Kudos: 185





	1. Place Setting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Season 1 vibes. Will and Hannibal chat after a therapy session. The invitation is extended.

(source: https://www.tumblr.com/register/follow/hannibalstuff)

Hannibal kept on ~~smelling~~ inviting Will to dinner.

“Would you like to come over for dinner, Will?”

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the man. He was a renowned host; Jack was a frequent guest of his and waxed endlessly about his cooking. Hell, Will himself had consumed a number of Hannibal's meals. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary...except it was.

Setting was important. Setting determined everything

Right now, they were in Hannibal’s office. An appropriate setting. Will was sitting in one of the many chairs Hannibal provided, turning a book over in his hands, while the other man was leaning against his desk.

“I don’t care for dinner parties,” Will said, trying to shake Hannibal off him. “The formalities, the preening and the pressure of ritual. Who can enjoy food in that kind of situation?” he questioned. “Masochism in mastication.”

Will had not failed to notice that his quip had elicited the smallest quirk of a smile upon Hannibal’s serene façade.

“What you say is not wrong,” Hannibal agreed. “Although I had never thought of it that way. I suppose there is a degree of heightened ceremony, but the most pleasurable consumptions in life can only come with careful preparation.”

Will felt the warm flush crawling up his neck, and down his legs if he was being honest. But although Will was honest, he did not like complications. His relationship with Hannibal was ambiguous at best, and although ambiguity was uncomfortable in its own right, it was a pleasure cruise compared to the nightmare of confirmation. You couldn’t unchanged a relationship once it morphed and grew more complicated, and their current level of complicated was all that Will could handle at the moment.

“I don’t do social functions,” Will gritted. He put the book he had been examining down and ran a hand along the back of his neck.

“I believe there has been a miscommunication. Let me clarify, and lower the stakes. It shall just be us.”

Will knew that to begin with. He also knew that Hannibal knew that to begin with. The initial rejection to attend a dinner party was just social smoke and mirrors to politely decline.

Again, setting. Will had spent a lot of time alone with Hannibal, probably more so than anyone else in his life. But it was always in the appropriate setting; on the job, in his office, the occasional house call. Alana had been skittish to spend any time alone with him, he knew, and she was one of the closest people in his life he’d categorize as a friend. Even then, the first time she had it had been in a hospital room with Abigail sleeping not far away. It had been an acceptable setting. Dinner, with Hannibal, in his home, the place where he lived, slept, ate, fornicated, and embodied, was not an appropriate setting.

There was something about the idea of Hannibal’s house that bothered him. The man was so precise, so neat. He controlled everything about his appearance down to the dimple in his tie. The same was true of his office, a calculated display of intelligence and taste. To entered the dominion of a man like that...it sounded suffocating.

“It is still a ceremony even with just two,” Will dismissed quickly. “You prepare the food, you set the table, and I show up merely to consume and be utilized as a prop in a ceremony.”

“You are the type of has trouble accepting gifts, aren’t you?” Hannibal assessed.

“Gifts are pretense for control and debt,” Will stated. “The giver receives the gratification of gifted, and the gifted must perform gratitude.” He rubbed his face, feeling exhausted just from the thought of it, and from this conversation.

“Consider this a therapeutic challenge,” Hannibal offered, waving out his hands in invitation. “Exposure therapy.”

Will could outright say no. There was always that option. But it was hard to say no to a man like Hannibal. An individual so meticulously crafted gave the sense that you were also a meticulous choice. That being said,

“No,” Will denied. “Thank you,” he added. Hannibal sighed and crossed his arm, graciously accepting defeat.

“Alas,” Hannibal said. “The prodigal son is postponed another day.”

“Are you implying that I am wasteful?” Will asked. The prodigal son was selfish and arrogant, squandering his fortune and father’s good will—hence why he returned. Will did not expand on the other possible implication, which was that Will, as the prodigal son, would eventually return begging for forgiveness to his accepting father—Hannibal.

“Only that my invitation is always open and that I am, at least I try to be, a patience man.”

So, it was the latter implication. Will could not bring himself to look in Hannibal’s eyes, but he could practically smell the smile on the man’s face.

Will went home to Wolf Trap that day feeling bothered. There was an itching under his skin that he couldn’t reach. He fed his dogs, shoved leftover take-out into his body, vacuumed up the dog hair, and went to bed. It would all be better, he told himself, after a night of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't eat meat, Hannibal would kick me out of his house. What am I doing in this fandom? Oh yeah, I've been a simp for Hannibal since I read the books. Please eat me murder husband :)


	2. Good Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very light Hannibal backstory spoiler.

[Hannibal's look how cute I am, go to dinner with me, face]

[Will's I turned your ass down like five times face] 

“Any weekend plans?” Hannibal asked. They were driving together, on their way to a crime scene which Jack had warned was gruesome enough to warrant Hannibal’s psychological support.

“Vet. Winston keeps scratching at his ears. They’re starting to bleed.” Will always related to his dogs, but this was a case of extreme empathy. Sitting in the car with Hannibal, he could feel his skin tight with tension. The itchiness. Still, he kept reminding himself, it was an appropriate setting. In the car, under the umbrella of work—safe.

“Fleas?” Hannibal suggested. “I must admit, my knowledge of dogs is somewhat lacking.”

“No, I checked him pretty thoroughly. Besides, too cold for fleas.”

“Hmm,” Hannibal mused. “Perhaps it is psychological then. What is the patient’s medical history?”

Will thought for a minute, glad for the mental distraction.

“Winston was a stray.”

“Ah, so...the potential for psychological trauma is boundless. Skinny, was he?”

“Yes.”

“A stray who went hungry,” pondered Hannibal aloud. “If he did not know how to hunt, then likely he was a kept animal who never had to learn. Was he well trained when you got him?”

“Basically, housebroken already.”

“Abandoned, how tragic.”

“It’s common. People don’t understand the investment it is to take care of dogs.”

“Animal rearing is a skill,” Hannibal agreed. “Patience understanding, grooming, feeding, mental and physical stimulation.” The tightness of Will’s skin was returning. “Truly a commendable act.”

It was a compliment aimed at him, but Will had no idea how to receive it. Thankfully, Hannibal filled the silence with,

“When did you take him into your pack?”

“Late March, a couple of years ago.”

“So, if he was given shelter in early spring, he must have spent the winter starving.” There was a curious pause here, usual given Hannibal's near perfect rhythmic cadence. “How strange it is to relate to an animal,” Hannibal said.

For a moment, Will thought he had misheard Hannibal’s confession, but again, Hannibal pressed on with the conversation.

“Last week was the first snow, was it not?” This was one of Hannibal’s conversation tricks. He asked questions he knew the answers to merely for the sake of including his partner into the conversation. One of Hannibal’s many charms that made people relaxed and defenseless. It gave them a sense of contribution that implied equal footing, but only made Will on edge.

“Yes,” he gritted out.

“If I were to make a diagnosis, I’d say the cold makes him anxious and perhaps snow is a trigger. The memories of his abandonment and starvation return to him like scabs, and so he cannot help but scratch at the irritation.”

“Does the cold make you anxious?” Will asked. He had wanted to emulate Hannibal’s speaking tactics, but he knew it was the wrong question as soon as he asked it. He always asked the wrong thing. Ever the gracious conversationalist, Hannibal responded smoothly with neither confirmation nor denial.

“A good meal, and good company help.”

And somehow, they had returned to the dinner invitation. Damn. Started with bleeding dog ears, ending with dinner.

“For some people,” Will said.

“But not you.”

“No, not me.”

Will liked the car; in the car, he had an excuse to not make eye contact. It put him at ease, and he was never more grateful of it than now. But a part of him suspected Hannibal knew this.

“What is it about dogs you find so...easy to interact with?” Hannibal asked.

“Why?”

“So that I may learn to emulate their behavior.” Will flexed his hand on the steering wheel, inexplicable irritation coursing through his body.

“They are--for lack of a better word--innocent,” Will said. “Unmotivated by greed, or evil. They act on their base needs, nothing more.”

“Ah, I think I understand now,” Hannibal said. “They’re like pallet cleansers. After a long day in the minds of monsters, I’m sure the minds of loving companions are comforting. But must it only be a dog?”

Will said nothing, and again, Hannibal pressed on to continue the conversation.

“However, I find your definition of innocent a little troubling.” Here Hannibal paused, inviting Will to challenge him, inviting Will to feel like a peer in this conversation.

“How so?”

“Because if need justifies actions as innocent, then surely we can justify a number of evil acts. For example, the Minnesota Shrike, his need was--”

“Want,” Will corrected. For the first time, he felt like he was at the conversational helm. “He wanted to kill. He didn’t need to kill.”

“Desire versus need,” Hannibal said. “Tricky to distinguish.”

“Not really,” Will disagreed. “Frankly, I’m a little disturbed a man with an extensive background as your thinks so.”

“It keeps the conversation flowing to act a fool,” Hannibal admitted. “But I confess, sometimes I do find it difficult to distinguish it in my own life.”

The challenge was left dangling in the air. Will could fall for the bait, or he could just let the talk die off and continue the ride in silence. He conceded and asked,

“How so?”

“I need to eat,” Hannibal said, and Will already knew he had fallen for the trap. “As a human, I need connection and company. What I want aligns with what I need, and yet...” Hannibal’s pause here was playful, and his next statement tinged with mock hurt, “my invitation is deemed immoral by the expert on innocence.”

“I’m not an expert,” Will responded tensely. “I just don’t care for dinner.”

“Two people...alone...cut off from the world...sitting together. It is not so different from what we are doing now.”

Setting was important.

“Is it the eye contact?” Hannibal asked. “Should we eat in the dark? Or perhaps blindfolded to raise our sensory pallets?” Will felt the heat building in his neck and told himself it was just from sitting too long. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’d stab myself.”

“Candle light?” Hannibal suggested.

“Do not joke with me,” Will warned.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The rest of the ride passed easily, aside from Will’s crawling skin and flushed burning neck, and they were soon at their destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regular brain: Will loves dogs.  
> Galaxy brain: Will loves dogs because he can relate to dogs.  
> Infinity brain: Will loves dogs because he can relate to dogs and wants to be treated like a good boy.


	3. Midnight Delight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered splitting this into two chapters but I think it works better as one long one. Will accepts the invite.

The next invitation made Will reconsider. Hannibal was walking Will back to his car after a therapy session. It was snowing.

“I’m hosting a holiday dinner party,” Hannibal said, as he watched Will tug his tattered coat over a mottled sweater. “Nothing too lavish. A small group of twenty to twenty-five.”

“I’m sure your guest will feel honored to have made the cut,” Will said.

“Naturally, you’re invited but I know how you feel about social performance.” Hannibal opened the office door for Will and, to Will’s surprised, began to follow after him while maintaining a respectful distance.

“Somehow I don’t think your social class would agree with me.” Will had no qualms about fact that he was a disheveled man in his late thirties, riddled with social paralysis, and a tense demeanor that most found off putting. A quiet night pants-less on his couch with his dogs was his only holiday plan.

“To the dogs it is then,” Hannibal said.

“I’d be going to the dogs either way.”

“I wonder...” Hannibal said, lingering softly by Will’s side as Will searched for his car keys. “If you might be interested in...the after-party. Much quieter and smaller,” Hannibal assured him.

“If the main party is twenty to twenty-five people, who I am assuming are the upper crust of our lovely society,” Will scoffed, “then I’d be even more misplaced among the cream of that crop.”

“You know what I am implying,” Hannibal said, so softly that it was almost lost in the chilly night air. The vulnerability of Hannibal's voice shook Will; it was a calculated vulnerability.

They were at Will’s car now, the snow falling gently. Will was aflutter with uncertainty; he knew this was the point that he got in his car and left, but a part of him wondered if there was more. For the first time since Will knew him, Hannibal looked a little uncertain and hesitant. He stood with his hands in his pockets, perfectly crisp as always, but he seemed tense. His deep, morose eyes, were downcast, for once not piercing through Will like a pike.

“I do not wish to inconvenience you...” Hannibal began, running a hand over his smooth locks in a display of nervousness so uncharacteristic Will was reeling. “Or make you unsettled. I fear, I may have. So, I will not transgress against you any further; however, if...by any chance this upcoming winter night...” Hannibal reached into this inner breast pocket and pulled out a small envelope. “If perhaps you grow tired of watching poor Winston scratching himself, and you desire the companionship of an animal other than a dog, please.”

Will took the envelope. Hannibal nodded slightly and quietly said,

“Good night then, Will.” He turned and began to walk back to the office building.

“Hannibal,” Will said, a little too loudly. He grimaced at his own voice projecting through the quiet street. Hannibal paused and turned to face Will. His face was unreadable, a mask of purged emotions. Perhaps hope, perhaps the slightest tinge of fear...fear for rejection, but also perhaps nothing at all. Will didn’t really know what he wanted to say. What exactly did you say when one of the most intimidating and accomplished men you had ever met invited you to an after-party for two?

“Your i-invitation...has been noted,” Will said lamely, stumbling over his words. He got into this car, glad for the physical separation between them, and drove away. But he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t check his rear-view mirror to see if Hannibal was still beside the road. Hannibal had walked forward to watch Will’s car recede. He stood quiet and still in the chilly night air, merely existing for the sake of viewing Will’s departing car.

On the night of the invitation, Will arrived an hour early. He sat in his car, watching Hannibal’s house from afar. If you could call it a house, it was closer to a mansion.

Around 11:00, the guest began to depart. Like a perfect host, Hannibal escorted each of them to their cars, holding open doors and saying good bye with the same agreeable smile for each guest. By 11:30, the last car had driven away and Hannibal stood in his doorway, waiting.

The invitation time was set for 11:45. Will had worried that Hannibal’s guest would linger, or that perhaps it wouldn’t just be the two of them like had been implied. But as always, Hannibal had stuck to his plans.

From his dark corner of the road, Will could faintly make out Hannibal’s eyes scanning the landscape. He was sure that his car would blend in. He was sure that Hannibal wouldn’t be able to spot him. And yet, when Hannibal’s gaze fell where Will was parked, Will couldn’t tell if the gaze had lingered a little longer. Finally, either due to the cold or because he had found what he had been looking for, Hannibal went inside.

But he left the door open.

Will rested his head against the seat of his car and breathed deeply.

He had known Hannibal for a while now. It was just a dinner. No, not even dinner, at this time of night it was essentially a midnight snack. Why did that sound worse than dinner?

Will knew as soon as he stepped through the threshold of Hannibal’s house their relationship would morph. He wasn’t sure into what, but it would change. And there would be no going back.

He took some more deep breaths. He smelled like soap.

He had showered before coming. Hell, he had even taken a lint roller to his clothes. The clothes he was wearing weren’t his nicest. He didn’t really have nice clothes. He was wearing his usual winter garb, a green jacket over a grey sweater and a faded button up. Hannibal was definitely going to notice he had taken the lint roller to them.

“You’ll be fine,” Will told himself. “You can leave anytime.”

He opened the car door.

Hannibal tidied up swiftly. He was the kind of host who maintained cleanliness throughout the festivities, so there was little to clean. A few glasses here and there, some misplaced cushions in the sitting room. He had hired some kitchen staff for the night, who by know were gone, and they had already cleaned up the dinner table and kitchen.

If Will was to come into his home, Hannibal wanted Will to feel comfortable. He wanted his home to feel lived in, typically, it was so neat and sterile you could have killed someone in it. However, Hannibal could not help from busying himself while the minutes ticked slowly on.

He paused in his small correction to glance at the sitting room clock. It was almost 11:45. He pulled back his deep maroon suit sleeve to check his watch just in case the clock was wrong. It was not.

A pity. It was a pity.

[Hannibal's disappointing in Will, might just kill him face]

You could not coax an animal into your hand by force. You could only extend your hand and wait for them to come to you. That, Hannibal knew, wasn’t entirely true. You could smoke an animal out, you could lure it with food, you could wound it and drag it out. However, you’d lose its trust.

The disappointment grew on Hannibal's face as the clock hit 11:45. It was time to close the door, to cut off the invitation, but he waited a bit longer and stared at the large clock while occasionally checking his own watch.

Maybe he had gone too far, asked too many times. It was unlikely that he had mis-read Will, the man couldn’t hide his emotions if he tried.

Hannibal had studied every neck rub, every shift of Will’s legs, every hitching breath, and every stolen glance. Will reciprocated; he responded to Hannibal. But alas, it was not enough. The evidence of Will rejection was before him and Hannibal had to accept it.

Hannibal went to close the door as the clock hit 11:50.

And there he was.

Will Graham.

Standing at the base of the entrance steps, arms folded and shivering slightly. Hannibal’s mouth softly smiled.

[Yay Will is here face]

“Are you not cold little match girl?” he called gently.

“I...I couldn’t knock with the door open” Will said. He was avoiding eye contact again, his disheveled head downcast. Hannibal quirked a glance at the open doorway he embodied, as if he had no idea who left it opened.

“So, it is true,” he marveled. “but if you’d like, I shall invite you in without the formality of knocking.” Hannibal stepped aside and swept his arms out. “Come in.”

Will walked up the steps slowly, arms still folded. He paused in the doorway, waiting for Hannibal to move, but Hannibal remained. For a moment, their eyes locked as Will stole a glance, before looking away. Will slid past Hannibal, painfully careful to not touch him.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come,” Hannibal said as he closed the door behind them. He did not fail to note Will’s skittish flinch when the door latch locked.

“I doubt that,” Will said, a slight bitterness to his voice.

“No really, I was.”

“Hmm,” Will said as he scanned the house.

“Are you hungry?” Hannibal asked. “I know it is late, but a light meal could be arranged.” Will’s eyes were fixed on the dining room; the huge table looming like a killer whale.

“I suppose.” Hannibal flexed his hand, before raising it to touch Will on the shoulder. Will tensed beneath his touch and whipped around.

“Not in there,” Hannibal said, beckoning for Will to follow him. “Come, this way.”

Hannibal could barely mask his smile as Will trailed after him like a puppy on a leash. He glanced back occasionally, to make sure Will was there. Will’s body was tense, he was absorbing all the exits and potential weapons in the house.

“A fireplace,” Will said as they passed through the sitting room. A fire was softly crackling. “And a bearskin rug. I wouldn’t have pegged you for the type.”

“I indulge in the occasional clique,” Hannibal said, pretending that he had not just laid it out ten minutes before. The rug was laid out in front of a deep red couch. “But come, It's just the next room.”

They arrived in the kitchen. The hired staff had done their duty, and the kitchen was spotless save a few loose glasses that were collected after they left.

“Oh, I forgot,” Hannibal said. He disappeared for a moment and returned with two dining room chairs, which he placed at the kitchen island. “Please, take a seat. I will warm us up something.”

“We are eating here?” Will asked.

“Of course,” Hannibal said, allowing his smile to peak through. “It’s much too late for anything formal. Besides, you’re not one for...how did you put it? Masochism and mastication.” Hannibal opened up his fridge. “Something light I think.” He pulled out a container of white truffle and goat’s cheese risotto. “I hope you don’t mind that I re-heat leftovers from tonight's dinner?”

Will shook his head.

“Good,” Hannibal said. He removed his suit jacket; tonight he was wearing a deep paisley maroon. Folding his jacket, he handed it to Will. “Could you put that on my chair for me.” Will obeyed and Hannibal crossed over the kitchen to retrieve his apron.

Will looked small and uncomfortable in the large kitchen. The poor man had thought the dining room would be intimidating, little did he know of the power Hannibal felt in the kitchen. He knew Will was picking up on it; the man was an empathic bloodhound after all. This kitchen was Hannibal's domain.

Hannibal whipped out a small pot, poured the thick, creamy dish in, and switched on the gas element.

“My kitchen staff were good,” Hannibal said. “But the risotto was a bit too bland for my taste tonight.” Hannibal swirled in a splash of truffle oil, cracked in some smoked salt, and vigorously mixed the dish.

“So how was the party?” Will asked. He was as tense as a strung harp.

“We don’t have to waste time with small talk, do we?” Hannibal cut in.

“I...” Will muttered. “guess--”

“Drink?” Hannibal asked. “I prefer red, but it would be a crime to drink anything I have without decanting. I’ve a suitable white that will go with the meal.”

“Okay,” Will agreed. Hannibal placed the wine bottle onto the kitchen island and stabbed it with the corkscrew.

“Now a days, they have the lever corkscrews,” Hannibal said as he twisted the screw into the cork, his arm muscles tensing under the trim fit of his crisp, pressed shirt. “But I still prefer to uncork it myself.” He poured them both a glass, and Will tentatively took his and washed half of it back. Normally, Hannibal would have protested the wasting of good wine but it was Will, so he took pity on the poor, disheveled man.

“So,” Will said. “I can’t ask about the party. What can I ask about?” Will wasn't much in the mood for games. Hannibal said nothing as he spooned the risotto into a shallow bowl and shaved white truffle on top. He slid it across to Will with a spoon.

“The food.”

Will wet his lips, clearly feeling out of his depths, and took aggressively took a bite.

“It’s good...as usual.” He took another bite and Hannibal had to hide his wince. Will, for all his perfections, ate like he was scarfing down cereal while late for work.

“Eat more slowly,” Hannibal suggested. “Take the time to savor it.” Will’s back was still taunt and he was still unable to make prolonged eye contact, but he obeyed and took a smaller, slower bite. “When we sit like this side by side, you do not have to worry about the dreaded whites of my eyes.”

Will scoffed.

“Are you not going to eat?” Will asked.

“Eventually,” Hannibal said, watching Will eat. “My appetite has not reached that point yet.” He untied his apron and hung it across the back of his chair. “You know, I thought about buying you a gift.” Will grimaced. “Yes,” Hannibal agreed. “I know how you feel about gifts, so I did not. Perhaps you can help me with a little observational theory of mine though.”

“Sure,” Will agreed.

“I've noticed a correlation among my patients,” Hannibal said. “Many of them are like you, with a similar repulsion towards gifts. I have found they also have great difficulty accepting physical gifts as well.”

“Like a hug?” Will asked. “Or PDA?” He didn't much care for either.

“No, more like,” Hannibal paused here, wondering if he’d scare Will off or not. “Foreplay and oral sex.”

[Hannibal's I love teasing Will face]

Will sighed deeply and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Hannibal,” Will said, his voice low and displeased. “You are not my sex therapist.”

So, he had been right then.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Hannibal apologized. Again, he flexed his hand, opening and closing it into a fist, and placed a hand on Will’s back. “I forgot to take your coat.”

It was an invitation again. Hannibal wanted to give Will space to leave, or hopefully, stay. If he gave Hannibal his coat, that meant he was committed to staying longer.

Will’s back was burning hot under Hannibal’s touch.

“May I?” Hannibal asked.

“No,” Will said, and for a moment Hannibal's hope wavered. Then Will said, “I can do it myself.” Will forced himself to uncurl from over his food and shrugged off his coat.

“Thank you, and the sweater?”

“Why the sweater?” Will asked.

“It will be warm by the fireplace.”

“I don’t think I’ll stay that long,” Will murmured.

“You never know.” Hesitantly, Will pulled at the sleeves of this grey sweater and then yanked it up over his head. The smallest hint of flesh flashes as Will’s shirt rose up with the pulling motion. He fixed himself after handing Hannibal the garment.

Hannibal left momentarily to hang up the clothes and Will crumbled the second he left the room. Will dragged his hands across his face and through his hair, trying to claw his dripping anxiety off his face.

What the hell had he been thinking? Hannibal had been eye fucking him since the moment he entered the house. Christ, he could barely breathe. Could he leave? Did he want to leave? He already gave Hannibal his coat and sweater. Will had no idea.

“Do you remember our conversation in the car the other day?” Hannibal asked, suddenly returned. Will almost dropped his spoon onto the ground.

“Y-yes,” he managed to grit out. He took another sip of wine.

“Well, I thought we might try it,” Hannibal said, falling back into the chair beside Will. Hannibal held out his hand, a black strip of cloth in his palm.

“You’re not serious,” Will said. Hannibal shrugged and rose, going behind Will.

“Why not.”

“Because I won’t be able to see my food,” Will said with a forced laugh. His mouth was dry as hell and he took another swig of wine.

“I’ll guide you.” Hannibal softly wrapped the blindfold around Will, careful to not touch his skin and tied it against Will’s brown curls. “You washed before coming here.”

Will said nothing, he could see nothing. The back of his ears were burning and he was sure Hannibal could see his inflamed bright red neck.

It was true.

“And you took the dog hair off your clothes,” Hannibal said, mainly just so he could watch Will’s beautiful skin flush. He wanted to peel it like a blanched peach.

Will reached out for his spoon, but was unable to find it. He breathed sharply, trying to picture where he had left it.

“Wh-where?” Will sputtered. He felt something circular and cool against his cheek.

“I’ve got it,” Hannibal said. Will heard the older man circle around him and sit down. “Now, open up.”

Will’s face twitched as he released a quick huff of breath, in near disbelief of the circumstances they were in. This was the part where he got up and left, where he ripped off the blindfold and threw it in Hannibal’s face. Instead, he opened his mouth.

“Good,” Hannibal said. He snaked one hand around Will’s beautiful flushed neck to steady Will as he softly fed him the creamy dish. The first bite went well. “Is the flavor different?”

“It’s um...I think so...”

“Let's do another.” Will hesitated but dutifully opened his mouth, allowing Hannibal to see down his lovely red throat. The second bite didn’t go as well. Will missed, well to be fair, Hannibal had pulled back the spoon. The third try was also a travesty, having anticipated Hannibal pulling back the spoon again, Will leapt to try and catch it and ended up choking. He coughed violently, almost rising up from his chair. The white risotto spilled onto his cheek.

“Hannibal, y-you motherfucker,” Will coughed. Hannibal picked up the cloth napkin on the kitchen counter and cupped Will’s lovely face in one hand. Will calmed down at the touch, but he was still breathing hard. “Sorry,” Will apologized, as Hannibal dabbed the white stain from Will’s cheek. “I know you don’t like foul language.”

“No,” Hannibal agreed. “But in some cases, the urge to shout profanities it understandable.” Hannibal traced the white smear on Will’s face. He stood up, so that Will was blindfolded and seated beneath him, and tipped Will’s face up. “Are you scared?” Hannibal asked.

“I...” Will breathed, his chest was heaving up and down. “I’m not sure. This is...um... an unusual situation.”

“You can take the blindfold off anytime,” Hannibal said. He wondered if that was cruel thing to say. Poor Will, who spent so long in the minds of depraved men and tried hard to distinguish himself from them. A blindfold must have been a relief, to have his sight and his will stripped from him so that the burden of responsibility for existence no long pressured him, but was instead in the hands of Hannibal.

Will reached up to grab the strip of cloth.

“Of course,” Hannibal said. “I think it will be better for you to leave it on.” Will was twitching in Hannibal’s hand, a thousand conflicting thoughts and scenarios whipping through his mind.

“For what?” Will asked.

Ah, Hannibal was impressed. Will was learning to steer the conversation, learning to make Hannibal give the answers. But Hannibal wouldn’t give in that easy.

“You know why,” Hannibal said softly, running his thumb over Will’s lips. A shudder wracked Will’s body. “You’re an empath. You know why I invited you here. You know what’s going on it my mind right now. But even so, I need to know Will,” Hannibal said.

“What?”

“You can understand minds Will, and so can I to a degree, but I’m better with the body. I know what your body is saying.” Hannibal easily kicked apart Will’s legs, spreading him open to reveal his engorged cock straining against his pants. Will instinctively curled smaller, but notably, did not shut his legs. “But the body can betray the mind, so I need to know you’re okay with this.”

“I-I...” Will sputtered. “I think so...” Hannibal pulled away a little. “I’ll say,” Will shot out. “I’ll say if I’m not.”

“Oh my little match girl,” Hannibal said, taking a sip of wine. “I hope you’ll be able to.”

Hannibal fell down on Will’s cheek, licking the stain from his jawline to the corner of his mouth. The gasp that escaped his mouth sent a spark of lighting down Hannibal’s cock. He propped up one knee between Will’s legs, putting pressure on Will’s hot, damp crotch. His hands went to Will’s shirt, popping open the buttons, as his mouth hovered centimeters away from Will’s lips.

Savor him, Hannibal kept telling himself, savor him.

Will lips were reaching out for Hannibal's, but Hannibal’s mouth was moving down south. He was placing kisses along Will’s jawline and neck. Almost, he had unbuttoned Will’s shirt, and his hands now began tugging it out of Will’s pants, pushing it out of the way so Hannibal could access the tempting skin that Will had flashed earlier.

It was slightly chilly in the room, and Will’s nipples were pert and inviting. Will’s chest was heaving as Will sucked in huge gulps of air, still in partial disbelief. Hannibal went on his knees, wrapped an arm around Will’s chest, pressing his palm into Will’s spine, and took a nipple in his mouth. Will sucked in air through his teeth; he wasn’t used to stimulation there.

“Not there,” Will protested.

“Ah,” Hannibal apologized. Placing a kiss on Will’s chest. “We are sensitive here. It can take time.” Hannibal began to massage Will’s chest, his powerful fingers tenderizing the body beneath him. Will was spooked, Hannibal could tell.

Possibly his first time with a man? Or perhaps, it had just been a while since he had properly received pleasure. Will read to Hannibal like a man who put his partner’s pleasure first; he was an empath after all. Hannibal could just imagine the number of girls he clumsily ate out; they probably all rode him while he squirmed beneath them with discomfort. Male partners would love to shove their cocks down the throats of a tussled hair beauty like Will, his hair was perfect for grabbing.

Hannibal tried again to take one of Will’s nipples in mouth, determined to roll his tongue around them and savor them. Now that they were warm, and the blood flow increased, Will could feel slight pleasure from Hannibal’s mouth. His breathing slowed, and Hannibal took one of Will hand’s and buried it in his hair, encouraging Will to grab him.

Will did so, taking a fistful of Hannibal’s perfect hair and tussling it as Hannibal devoured Will’s chest. Encouraged by Will’s grip, Hannibal undid the button of Will’s pant and Will released a groan from between clenched teeth.

“Just get on with it,” Will spat. As he suspected, Will did not enjoy being pleasured or showing sexual gratification. Likely, years of mechanical quick fucks and unsatisfactory orgasms had left him with a degree of sex repulsion. This was a man who viewed gifts as power struggles. Admitting to pleasure was the same as losing your power. Sex to Will, was meant to be a short, dirty, and empty process. This was not the case for Hannibal who liked to savor his meals.

“Will,” Hannibal said. “I want you to know this will not be a quick process. I am a meticulous man.” Will squirmed with discomfort slightly in the chair, Hannibal could see the gears of reconsideration turning in his head. “You will orgasm,” Hannibal said, pulling back the band of Will’s undergarments to free his cock. “Many times, by my fingers, my phallus, and my mouth.” Hannibal grabbed Will’s cock and placed kisses on its underside. “I will pleasure every erogenous zone from your penis, to your prostate, your mouth, your nipples, and your taint.” He ran his tongue up the length of Will’s pulsating cock and this time Will squirmed with pleasure.

“I don’t need that,” Will said, just barely managing to keep his voice tight instead of breathless.

“And that is what makes this so immoral by your standards of innocent,” Hannibal mused. “Because I want to consume you.” Hannibal slid Will’s cock into his mouth, sliding his tongue all down the length. Will gasped sharply, his breathing heavy. He gripped Hannibal’s hair tight as Hannibal roughly devoured Will’s manhood, taking him deep into his greedy mouth.

Hannibal’s hair became messier and messier as Will’s fingers dug deeper into his scalp. The consumption was precise sloppiness, saliva lubricated Will’s cock with every stroke. Hannibal’s tongue was tasting all over, savoring the pungent flavor of Will. Never in Will’s life, not even in the horniest stages of his youth, did Will imagine a man of Hannibal’s status and prestige sucking his cock like it was made of nectar and honey.

Then Hannibal hand seized Will by the shirt, grabbing a fistful. Will loosened his grip, remembering that Hannibal was on the other line of his pleasure, and possibly being hurt. But Hannibal didn’t seem to be telling Will to stop and his vigor never lessened. Hannibal tugged at Will’s shirt with one hand, while his other hand was still pressed against his spine, urging him upwards.

“Christ, Hannibal.” Will began to shakily stand, placing one hand on the kitchen island to steady himself. The vigor of Hannibal’s blowjob had subsided, allowing Will to reconfigure himself, but he was still rolling Will’s cock around his tongue. It was like Hannibal did not want to relinquish the sweet he had acquired. Will swung a leg over Hannibal, so that the older, better dressed man was between Will’s legs on his knees and still with Will’s cock in his mouth. And then Will understood why Hannibal wanted him to stand up.

At this angle, with Hannibal on his knees and Will looming above him, slightly bent over, Will’s cock slid in at the perfect angle to deep throat Hannibal. Will thought his cock was going to melt as Hannibal lovingly took it into the depths of his tight throat. Hannibal hand shot up to squeeze Will’s grip on his hair, encouraging Will to pull and dig into his locks. Will did so, tightening his grip on Hannibal and pulling him forward until Hannibal seemed to disappear completely. His mouth and throat were so perfect, so easy to thrust down while sinking his nails into Hannibal's scalp. It was like fucking a sex toy, and inanimate object only there for Will to plunge and ejaculate into.

Will couldn’t see with the blindfold on, but he knew, he just knew. That Hannibal was down there, his tie probably not even loose, his vest still fully buttoned, his collar still creased sharp enough to slice skin, he was a picture of perfection. And Will, his cheap shirt unbuttoned, his faded pants falling down, was deep throating him like a whore. What more, Hannibal was enjoying it, Hannibal was encouraging it.

I am yours to use, Hannibal seemed to be telling Will.

“Close,” Will gritted out. Will’s orgasm built up like a volcano; Hannibal felt it coming from the twitching of Will’s cock even before Will’s warning. He gripped onto Will tight as Will tried to pull out. Hannibal let Will’s cock slide out until the point, so that the tip was still between his lips when Will’s semen spilled into his mouth. It coated his tongue and filled his mouth with bitter viscosity; he swallowed gratefully.

“Did you?” Will questioned. Hannibal stood to his feet, consumed the last morsel of his wine, and dabbed the corners of his mouth with the cloth napkin he had used on Will. As much as Hannibal enjoyed tasting his companions, he could not pretend like semen was delicious.

“Of course,” Hannibal said, as if it was the most basic courtesy.

“I’m sorry,” Will apologized. “I don’t know...what...” He reached to pull the blindfold off but Hannibal stopped him.

“You preformed beautifully, Will,“ Hannibal praised. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah,“ Will said, hesitation still in his voice.

“Then let us go to the sitting room to enjoy the fire.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does it count as a slow burn if they're getting down by the third chapter??? Originally, I had planned to wait until chapter 4 but eh, I can live with Hannibal being disappointment with my poor planning skills.
> 
> Also, sorry I could not find who were the original gif creators the the images I used here.


	4. Hannibal's Hankering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I'm pretty proud of this chapter's slow sexual build up so I hope ppl don't find it boring cuz it adds to the full ~spicy~ crescendo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> *Early season 1 spoilers?*  
> *Spoiler of Hannibal backstory--apparently it is in the show but I'm only on the second season, and it's in the books*  
> *Imagined vore*  
> *Some sexual violence ahead, see end of notes if you want to know what type*  
> *I didn't intend for this to be /Dub-Con/ but I can defiantly see where certain parts qualify, so I have since added that tag. See end of notes if you want to know an explanation for the dub-con before proceeding*

<\-- This is the sleeping faun/satyr that Hannibal references in this chapter.

This was the tricky part. The afterglow of Will’s orgasm was fading fast. Hannibal had to get Will from the kitchen to the sitting room, quick, before Will decided he wanted to rip off the blindfold and make a break for it after all.

Hundreds of variables sorted through the filing cabinets of Hannibal’s mind. Will had to keep the blindfold on. Contrary to what Will likely thought, Hannibal did not put on the blindfold for sexual preference. He'd have rather stared into Will’s eyes as Will ejaculated in his mouth. The blindfold was to keep Will from being swallowed by his insecurities, a way to ease his burden of being perceived.

“Tell me about your sexual history,” Hannibal said, as he took one of Will’s arms and led him towards the sitting room. Will’s flaccid leaking penis was still dangling out of pants, and he reached to cover himself, but Hannibal stopped him. “There is nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Says the man who is still fully dressed,” Will said bitterly. Even after the best head of his life, Will’s ingrained sordidness couldn’t be erased. Hannibal leaned into Will’s ear to whisper,

“Not for long.” The short huff of breath that Will released, and the little twitch of his head as Hannibal’s breath warmed his ear, made Hannibal want to devour his cock all over again. But that was the appetizer, it was time to serve the next course. “Now, tell me about your sexual history.”

“Didn’t I just say, you weren’t my sex therapist.”

“After everything we just did?” Hannibal asked. They were moving slowly, though the destination was not far. The sitting room was just down the hall.

“Sexual partner and sex therapist are different,” Will explained, even though he knew full well Hannibal knew it too.

“Admittedly, that was not my field of study, but I do have...well, practical field experience,” Hannibal chuckled gently. Will tried to ignore the little tingle of pleasure Hannibal’s laugh sent down his spine.

“You wrote about social exclusion. I’m sure that gave you ample knowledge on how to trap me.”

“Come now Will, must you view every interaction as a ploy for power?”

Now it was Will’s turn to laugh, and it came surprisingly easy.

“Really?” Will asked, gesturing to his state of undress and indecency. “Are you purposely playing the fool? Or is leading your...nightly companions...around blindfolded so normal to you that you can’t comprehend the control dynamic you’ve created?”

“Do you feel out of control?” Hannibal asked. Will hesitated.

“No,” he admitted begrudgingly.

It was strange. He was in Hannibal’s home. Had consumed Hannibal’s cooking. Now he was being blindfolded and aided by Hannibal just to walk, and of course all the while he was half undressed and indecently exposed. However, at the same time, Hannibal was there. Hannibal was assuring. Hannibal had knelt before him, let Will use him, and swallowed his seed. Will felt balanced. That kind of pissed him off.

“We’re in the sitting room,” Hannibal announced. Will was led to the couch and sat down. He could feel the wafting heat of the fire on his skin.

“Oh god,” Will groaned.

“What is it?”

“The bearskin rug, of course. I must be getting the yips for not noticing.”

“You were a little preoccupied,” Hannibal said graciously.

“Did you seriously plan this all?”

“This is my design.”

“I will leave,” Will threatened, but will no real malice.

“I had hopes, an outline of different scenarios, but I’d have to be a genius to orchestrate your will.”

Or a master manipulator, Will thought.

“So, what now?” Will asked. He was in no position to take the lead. Nor did he want to. Will wasn’t privy to Hannibal’s private thoughts, but nonetheless, Hannibal had been right about Will’s sexual inclinations. He was a pleaser. He did was his partner wanted. Rarely would he lead during sex, too afraid of doing the wrong thing, too afraid of disappointing them. Which of course, left them disappointed anyways.

“Would you like to undress me?” Hannibal asked.

“I can’t see you.” Will felt a hand caress his thigh and his back involuntarily straightened. Hannibal rubbed up and down Will’s thigh several times, before plunging in a little deeper between his legs, and dragging Will’s thigh towards him. Will followed the coaxing, and turned to face Hannibal on the couch.

If he hadn’t been blindfolded, Will likely wouldn’t have been able to face Hannibal. Even now, just the thought of Hannibal’s deep, piercing eyes made Will’s skin tighten.

Hannibal grabbed one of Will’s hands next, lovingly caressing the other man’s palm with his thumb, and placing Will’s hand on the first button of his vest. Will got the message, and began to unbutton Hannibal.

“Why do you want to know my sexual history?” Will asked, trying to keep his hands from shaking. “To confirm your theory?”

“Is it not natural to be curious of your partner?” Hannibal inquired. “In whatever form that partnership takes.” He was lazily stroking Will’s thigh. The fire light was dancing deliciously on Will’s skin, and already Hannibal’s mind was wandering to thoughts of pinning the other man down to rake his tongue over every inch of his skin.

“You’re trying to distract me.”

“You need distracting.” Will had finished with the vest, and began to clumsily pull it off Hannibal. The psychiatrist leaned forward, allowing Will to slip it off his arms, and got in close enough to place a chaste kiss on Will’s collar bone. Will responded by running his hands up Hannibal's back, then snaking them around to begin unbuttoning Hannibal’s dress shirt. “Age of your first-time masturbating?” Hannibal asked.

“Wow, no warm up question?” Will bristled. Hannibal always admired the way Will seemed to chew his words, half the time spitting out with disdain. “Eleven, maybe twelve, it’s difficult to remember that far back.”

“A consistent age for the discovery of pleasure,” Hannibal noted. “Perhaps a little later than most boys but close to the median.”

“And you?”

“I was what you might call a late bloomer. Vaguely, I remember being interested in the difference between me and my sister’s genitals when we bathed. I believe I attempted stimulation around age five, but I don’t think I officially found success until I passed the threshold of being a child. Alas, my childhood didn’t have much room for self-exploratory happiness.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“A conversation for another time,” Hannibal dismissed. “A mood spoiler I’m afraid. When was your first sexual experience involving penetration?”

Will hands fumbled with the smaller buttons of Hannibal's shirt.

“College.” Hannibal’s hand ran down Will’s thigh and lifted up his leg, allowing him the angle necessary to pull off one of Will’s shoe and sock. Will finished unbuttoning Hannibal’s shirt just as Hannibal removed Will’s other shoe and sock. Again, Hannibal leaned down to allow Will to pull the shirt down his arms, although this time he took a moment to remove his feet coverings.

“Vest, shirt, and shoes complete,” Hannibal narrated.

([Source: mendelsohnben)](https://mendelsohnben.tumblr.com/post/127987198477/a-complete-commemorative-collection-of-all-the)

“Not much else left,” Will said with a heavy sigh.

“You’re still unsure,” Hannibal stated.

“Our relationship has already changed.” Will collapsed back into the couch, throwing out his arms in defeat. “Further consummation will inflict little damage.” Hannibal disagreed vehemently, what they were about to partake versus the kitchen appetizer would have been like comparing a faucet to the Niagara Falls.

“But there is no need to proceed past your comfort zone.” Hannibal said the words, but his hands were crawling up Will’s thigh towards his exposed cock.

“I told you that I’d say If it went too far, and I will.”

Hannibal’s hand began to lazily massage Will’s cock, testing the reaction to see if Will’s post-orgasm refectory period had passed. Will responded with a slight hitch of his breath and a twitch of the corner of his mouth. Possibly on instinct alone, he shifted downwards, angling himself to press his crotch into Hannibal’s touch. Hannibal knew his meal was ready.

This angle of Will was appetizing. Half-dressed and leaning on his couch with the warm glow of the fire soaking his skin, all the while trying to keep the pleasure he was feeling off his face. A shy Aphrodite. Perhaps, David would have been a more apt term. Hannibal’s own seductive sleeping faun, inviting his touch while feigning nonchalance.

Almost involuntarily, Hannibal’s tongue was set on his teeth, like a snake tasting the air.

He bent down to greet his restive doe, placing a kiss on Will’s ear while he stripped Will’s shirt off. The contact of their bare skin, chest on chest, made Will shudder and then relax. He hadn’t realized how much he craved the warmth of flesh embracing him. He helped Hannibal with the disrobing, angling and lifting himself for ease of access. Then Hannibal began tugging on his pants.

Now almost intoxicated with the feel of Hannibal pressed against him, Will’s mind broke free of the anxiety and fear. He knew what Hannibal wanted, and he too wanted the same thing; their volition blurred into one. Will lifted himself up slightly from the couch, seemingly instigating for the first time, but truly following Hannibal’s design. He pushed Hannibal back, pressing Hannibal into his own side of the couch, and climbed on top of him. From this new angle, Hannibal had better leverage to pull off Will’s pants.

Hannibal gently ran his fingers through Will’s hair, and guided his head down to rest in the safe, crook of his shoulder. He longed to take off Will blindfold to gaze into his eyes, which he imagined were hazy with inebriated lust and serenity. Will was panting with need, his cock now hard against Hannibal’s own covered manhood, and Hannibal breathed in the sounds of his lovers suppressed desire like a wine’s bouquet. Will waited, pressed against Hannibal and needy, waited for permission to find relief.

One of Hannibal’s hands extended away from the embrace, and reached under the couch for a small concealed case.

Will felt the movements happening, but did not see the action happening. His mind instantly traveled to the word: knife. It all could be a trap; the sweetest moment of his life a snare for Hannibal to murder him. And then he felt Hannibal’s finger, now lubricated, enter him.

He squirmed; his nails dug into Hannibal’s skin. Gently, Hannibal was opening him.

“H-hannibal,” Will hesitated. He gritted his teeth. “I...I haven’t...I’ve never properly...”

The comforting hand returned to Will’s hair, soothing him as he processed the overwhelming sensation of becoming opened.

“I am here Will,” Hannibal assured him. “Fall into me.”

In a moment of savoring and hesitation, Hannibal merely held onto Will—his naked, lustful, and comforted lover, whose head laid upon his shoulder. The breaking point of which he could conceal his true desires loomed over the horizon. Once they converged into one, Will would able to glimpse into Hannibal's mind, and how then would he coax Will back into his embrace? Hannibal’s melancholy thoughts were interrupted when Will, awkward and embarrassed, whispered,

“Further,” into his ear. The chaste yet saccharine whisper set Hannibal’s skin aflame. He pressed deeper into Will, massaging his finger into Will’s tightness. “Close,” came another embarrassed whisper. Will pulled a leg upward, allowing Hannibal greater access. He squirmed against Hannibal again, a squirm of pleasure this time, and Hannibal realized he had found Will’s prostate.

A fleeting strike of panic hit Hannibal; he could feel his feelings for Will intensifying. Every small action Will made of reciprocating Hannibal was like the turn of a corkscrew in his heart. Amongst all of Hannibal’s sexual partners, never before had such mundane actions caused arousal—a whisper of encouragement and a shift of access and Will had turned Hannibal to putty in his hands.

He entered another finger and Will nuzzled in closer. Then Hannibal reached down with his other hand to tease Will’s taint. Will was burning hot, and Hannibal was too, the heat of their breath and sweat filled the air. Ever so slightly, with Hannibal’s encouraging fingers, Will was rocking back and forth, to the rhythm Hannibal set.

Time passed sweetly but slowly. Will remained in a suspended state of arousal and gratification, as he received low-grade relief from rubbing against Hannibal and then further stimulation from the fingers massaging his hole. On the other hand, Hannibal was suffering through cloying torture. He was hard, his erection trapped beneath his pants still.

Patience, he told himself. Go to fast and he’ll scamper. You won’t be able to stop once you’ve pulled back your last layer of control. You may never hold him again, savor him.

But Will’s deep breath in his ear was stirring him to no end. The smell of his sweat and slick arousal assaulted Hannibal.

“Are you ready?” Hannibal asked finally, when he felt his control grow as taunt as a cello string. Will’s response was slow, and came from his mouth dazed and drunk. Will nodded against him, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

“Yes...we can continue,” Will allowed.

Hesitation and doubt forgotten, Hannibal began to rise, taking Will into his arms, and laid him down upon the fireplace rug. He draped Will across the rug and then stood up. Will reached out for his warmth instinctively, but Hannibal pushed him back down with a finger. He gazed down upon Will’s gleaming, sweaty body shimmering in the fire light as he undid his pants.

Will was beautiful laid out on the hide of an animal, bathed in red firelight. The aggressive, defensive man Hannibal had first met in Jack’s office was breathing heavy before him. The bloodstained bloodhound who had panic over Abigal’s bleeding neck, and who Hannibal had watched spiral through despair and desperation whilst burrowing through the minds of maniacs—was splayed and bare.

When Hannibal knelt down beside Will again, he was naked and aroused beyond measure.

Will swallowed hard again, sensing Hannibal’s presence like the rabbit senses the fox or the mongoose sensing the approaching cobra. He coughed, choking on his own nervousness, which never seemed to truly leave him.

Hannibal leaned over Will, aligning himself with Will’s entrance and stared down at his face. The profilers face was a lined with apprehension, even while his body shifted and craned to meet Hannibal’s skin.

Hannibal reached down and pulled off the blindfold. Will’s eyelids fluttered as his eyes adjusted to the bright light. When he found himself staring directly into Hannibal's maroon eyes, he turned away, embarrassed and feeling more exposed than when Hannibal had been eyeing him from above. Hannibal brushed the sweaty hair out of Will’s face and turned him as tenderly as he could to meet his gaze.

“Graži,” Hannibal whispered, drinking in the sight.

He leaned down and kissed Will. It started gentle; lips just move against each other...and then Will parted his lips to allow Hannibal in.

The floodgates opened.

As soon as Hannibal’s tongue wrapped around Will’s, it was like he was trying to eat Will’s mouth—from his teeth, to his tongue, to his esophagus. An image burst into Will’s mind, that of Hannibal ripping out his tongue. Fear swarmed Will’s mind, his eyes widened with panic as he stared into Hannibal's’ cold maroon eyes.

He saw worship...and wrath.

At that moment, Hannibal began to enter Will. He had been restraining himself since taking Will’s cock in the kitchen, and the relief of penetration made him groan in Will’s mouth. The noise Will made was somewhere between a strangled cry and a moan. Hannibal’s tongue was swirling in his mouth, while at the same time, he could feel the pressure of Hannibal’s cock opening him up. The idea of Hannibal holding him at comforted him before, but now it panicked him. He struggled against Hannibal’s pressing weight as Hannibal pinned him down to satiate his and Will’s pleasure.

Their minds seemed to meld with their bodies. Will felt Hannibal’s desire to eat him. In the kitchen, Hannibal had been fantasizing about castrating Will with his teeth, chewing him down to his testicles. Possibly the only reason he hadn’t was because Hannibal would have choked if he’d bitten Will’s cock off while deepthroating.

The thought made Will want to shout, but Hannibal was still devouring his mouth and tasting his tongue. It was all mixed up. Fear, gratification, comfort, pain, control, anxiety, everything mixed in Will’s mind like a psychotic cocktail.

[How fucked up Will feels mentally]

He scratched at Hannibal’s back. Drawing red lines on Hannibal's pulsing muscles, that tensed and bulged with every thrust like the engine of a machine. Hannibal released a deep throated moan of pleasure; the noise muffled by their locked lips and reverberated through Will.

 _Yes_ , he seemed to be saying to Will, _you may hurt me_.

Hannibal’s on slaughter of Will never ceased; Will was taking the abuse so beautifully. The slow opening and foreplay had been worth it, as Hannibal pounded the hole that he had lovingly caressed to the point of aching.

Their bodies had become one fused lump of flesh; an onlooker would be hard pressed to say what limb belonged to who in the dim firelight. Will was grabbing at Hannibal, scratching him, squeezing him, while Hannibal held Will’s hair in a firm grip, holding him in place for tasting. His other hand was holding up one of Will’s thighs, allowing him to penetrate deeper. Will was too tense for Hannibal to entered him fully.

Again, it was like Hannibal had turned into something inanimate. His humanity disappearing as he transformed into a mechanical beast set on pounding Will into the rug and destroying Will’s mouth.

Will felt like his mind was being pummeled along with his body. Every hit of Hannibal’s stiff cock into his core sent a new image shivering up his spine to his mind. He saw images of Hannibal tearing out the ligaments of his throat; Hannibal burrowing into the side of Will’s stomach with his bare hands to pull out Will’s liver; Hannibal smashing Will’s skull open to access his brain.

Hannibal’s impulses became his own. Hannibal’s pleasure became Will’s own. The ecstasy of eating a meal long hungered for; a meal meticulously hunted; a meal ardently prepared.

Even as he convulsed with revulsion, Will’s body writhed in a way that met each of Hannibal’s penetrating thrusts.

Will felt his orgasm building. His breathing increased and he moaned, actually moaned, into Hannibal's mouth--spurring the psychiatrist on. At last Hannibal broke apart from the kiss, although as he pulled away he was still sucking on Will's tongue. He did so for the sake of listening to Will breath and to watch his body twitch through his dry orgasm, which snuck-up on Will like a blast and made him arch his back.

Hannibal leaned back into Will to give him another kiss, this one softer so not to overstimulate Will post-climate, his thrusting was gentler now too but still steady and present. Will was limp and breathing hard.

However, once the orgasmic haze began to clear, one thought shot through Hannibal's head to Will’s head like a bullet:

_Bite._

Hannibal ripped apart from kissing just as Will’s jaws snapped to bite the other man’s lips. Will shoved Hannibal, and the psychiatrist fell back—not so much from the brute force as much as him responding to Will’s wrath.

A second passed like a lifetime. Hannibal was in a sitting position, his legs slightly bent in front of him. While Will was only half propped up on the ground. Hannibal was bigger, but Will had anger on his side. In a fight, it would likely just come down to who made the first move. Will did.

(source: [val ღ](http://www.fanforum.com/members/val-%E1%83%A6-291261/))

"Will, I--"

Lunging forward, Will wrapping his hands around Hannibal’s throat. Hannibal grabbed Will’s wrists, trying to loosen the grip.

“You want to _eat_ me!” Will shouted, his face overcome with calm fury.

Hannibal’s face was unlike Will had ever seen. He looked as if he was experiencing a deep loss; there was regret there too, regret and grief. Then, Will felt the strength filling Hannibal’s hands as Will’s hands were slowly pried away. Anger had only given Will an advantage over Hannibal’s strength for so long. Hannibal’s face began to harden as he pulled Will hands off.

Then Will head-butted him, smashing his forehead into Hannibal’s nose. A spurt of blood shot onto Will’s chest. Hannibal recoiled back, and Will wrenched his hands free.

He grabbed Hannibal by the face, placing his thumbs over his eyes, before he pulled Hannibal up to him. He licked the blood on Hannibal’s face and found his way back to Hannibal’s mouth. They rejoined in a metallic kiss; the tasting continuing. Hannibal’s hands went to Will’s back, digging into Will’s skin just as Will had done to him.

All at once they had returned to rapture; their minds swimming in each other.

Hannibal had not softened and Will's cock had hardened to full mast while choking Hannibal. The understanding of their mutual need was comprehended without words.

"Already?" Hannibal asked, tugging on Will's new erection.

"Shut up," Will ordered, pulling Hannibal's head back by the hair.

(source: allionne/Fallen on tumblr)

“I’m yours,” Hannibal feverishly said into his lovers mouth, as Will lowered himself back onto Hannibal and they both groaned with relief and warmth.

“You're a _sick_ bastard,” Will spat. Will had his fingers embedded in the hair on Hannibal’s neck, holding Hannibal back so that he was looking up at Will. Hannibal was trying to kiss him again; he kept pulling against Will's grip to reach for Will's mouth with his. “How long have you been fantasizing about eating me!?” Hannibal said nothing as he focused on his and Will’s bodies finding their rhythm again.

Will was clumsy and crude in riding him; rage alone had fueled him to take a dominate position. Hannibal had to put a hand on Will's hip to guide him, but the image of Will, desperate and angry, spearing himself with Hannibal's cock like a wild beast breeding was worth it. The instinct for pleasure soon took over Will as he discovered the best angle on Hannibal's cock to hit his prostate, from there they began to descend into sweet synchronized fusion. Although the sweetness had returning, Will rage was still not quelled. “How long!?” Will demanded again. He was fighting to keep his voice from trembling--and even so his words ended in a tight moan as Hannibal grazed his prostate just right.

Hannibal smiled.

“Since you looked me in the eyes.” Will felt like he could see their first meeting through Hannibal’s eyes—the quaintness of a mousy, neurotic teacher who couldn't qualify as an agent snapping at every threat and dominating conversations based on the arrogance of equal to superior intellect. “You looked exquisite in blood...in my blood.”

Hannibal bit down on the part of Will’s chest where the blood had landed, eliciting a restrained scream as Will simultaneously revisited his traumatic experience shooting Hobbs. Hannibal had been calm. Hannibal had been watching him, taking in the sight of him trembling and blood splattered.

Will ripped Hannibal off of him like a leech and pushed him down to the ground, their bodies still connected. In this position, Hannibal could fully enter Will, and he did so hungrily and Will reciprocated, taking the pleasure that Hannibal was giving. For a moment he nearly lost himself in it, his eyes fluttering closed as he and Hannibal found a delicious tempo that sent waves of satisfaction coursing through their bodies. Then another image floated into Will’s mind; Hannibal was marveling at the way Will’s chest glistened with sweat and blood—and wanted to fuck him coated in blood.

The image dragged Will’s eyes open.

He wrapped his hands around Hannibal's neck again, not choking, just applying pressure. A warning. It was still slightly red from where Will had been strangling him, and although the bleeding had stopped, his face was still slick with red.

Then, Will saw Hannibal’s expression. He was completely relaxed, even with Will’s hands around his throat. His eyes merely consuming the sight of Will’s face stained with his blood while speared onto his cock.

Savor him.

Will put his thumbs in Hannibal's mouth, content to make him choke another way. Hannibal licked them deliciously, sucking on them like candy. Will ran his thumb over Hannibal’s swollen lips and perfect teeth: the jaws that wanted to chew into his flesh.

He spat in Hannibal’s mouth.

“Ačiū mielasis,” Hannibal grinned with blood-stained teeth. Next thing Will knew Hannibal had pulled back up to him, and returning to join their mouths. But it was soft this time, the hunger now satiated and replaced only with longing. Will found himself being pinned against the couch, Hannibal pounding into him while also holding him tight and melding their lips together. He licked Will’s swollen lips, almost like an apology, and kissed the corners where the skin had chafed.

Will groaned with pleasure, feeling it hazing his mind again just as it had done when Hannibal had been holding him on the couch. He let his mind go blank and focused on the feeling of being held, on Hannibal penetrating him over and over like an efficient yet desperate attempt at branding him. His head fell into the crook of Hannibal’s shoulder and he breathed in. He took in Hannibal’s skin, his warmth, and his soft whispering of,

“Likti... Likti...” into his ear.

The orgasm made Will’s whole body tighten, and he found himself clinging to Hannibal as it ripped through his flesh. Hannibal had not yet come, but he stopped moving once Will’s climax ended, peckering kisses on Will’s sweaty forehead. He began to lift Will off of him and his cock slide out still hard.

“Do what you need with me,” Will said.

Hannibal looked uncertain...and concerned.

“Your satisfaction is enough Will,” Hannibal said, leaning in to put his forehead on Will’s.

“I won’t offer again,” Will cut off. Will was rebuilding the walls between them already. The infectious passion was siphoning off now that he had orgasmed again. Climaxing three times in a night will do that. Hannibal drew away and looked down.

“I will go without, I think,” Hannibal answered. Will rose up, almost falling due to his wobbling legs. Hannibal jumped to try and aid him but Will pushed him away.

“Don’t!" Will shouted. "Don't...touch me...” Will grabbed at his clothes, hastily shoving them on as Hannibal hovered behind him.

“Will,” Hannibal began. “Please, you should stay.”

“No,” Will disagreed. He shoved his arm into the sleeve of his shirt. “I don’t think I should.” Hannibal picked up his own clothes and began to dress.

“I’ll walk you out.”

“My car isn’t far.” Will got up with his shirt only partially buttoned and his socks and shoes not on yet.

“I’ll get your coat,” Hannibal said quickly, rushing away as he buttoned up his shirt.

“Yeah, you do that,” Will said. He marched to the door. Pulling on his shoes as he walked, barely breaking his stride to smash his naked feet into them. He was out the door by the time Hannibal had returned with his coat and sweater. Hannibal saw the empty sitting room with Will’s socks abandoned on the floor, and ran to the door.

It was still ajar and Will was already at the end of Hannibal’s drive, rapidly walking away.

“Will!” Hannibal called. “It’s freezing.” He rushed down after him but by the time he got down the drive, Will was already in his car. All Hannibal could do was watch him drive away with Will’s coat and sweater in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The sexual violence in this chapter is choking and biting*  
> *The dub-con elements in this chapter revolve around Will realizing that Hannibal wants to eat him when empathizes with Hannibal during sex. That sends him into a panic where he is torn between stopping or continuing, but after choking Hannibal and re-gaining his sense of control, he continues. I can see where Hannibal having sex with Will while Will is struggling with inner turmoil would be troubling for some people, and I'll be limiting dub-con to this chapter* 
> 
> A brief explanation on why Will comes off as a mind reader here:  
> Sane brain: You know Will's empathy aren't superpowers right?  
> Horny brain: Yup.  
> Sane brain: So, how are we going to write a hannigram sex scene?  
> Horny brain: Make Will able to read Hannibal's mind so we get sexy imagined vore (((UwU))))


	5. Re-claiming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is very relatable with his dogs. Hannibal fucks with Will's emotions so much this chapter. Will gets some season 2 unstable vibes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Have not edited it, shall edit tomorrow*  
> *Includes a spoiler GIF of Hannibal from season 3*
> 
> Greetings all, I have taken to experimenting with adding in photos and GIFs to my chapters. So if you ever want to re-read the past chapters, you'll get a more immersive experience ;)  
> Unfortunately, I dunno how well they will load on the phone app. If you're new and this is your first read through...uh...thanks for reading this far! 
> 
> Please let me know if they are too distracting.

You see this image of Hannibal bathed in moonlight with his head tossed back? Burn it into your mind for this chapter. Got it? Okay, lets goooooooo.

[Source: mendelsohnben ](https://mendelsohnben.tumblr.com/post/127987198477/a-complete-commemorative-collection-of-all-the)

Shit. 

Will shouldn’t have gone. That was the conclusion he reached when he arrived home in the dead of winter with no coat, no sweater, and no socks. Every instinct in his body had told him to flee—every instinct except his biological instinct to mate apparently. 

His dogs greeted him as he walked inside. 

“Hi guys.” Will knelt down to pet them. He sighed heavily and rubbed his face. “Guess who made a mistake today.” 

Christ, Hannibal wanted to _eat_ him. The man fantasized about it. Will had always found Hannibal to be a little bit off, but he always chalked it up to him being European. Gay and European as it turned out, or at least attracted to Will and evidently his organs. 

And what had Will done? 

Gotten hard over choking Hannibal. Put his fingers down Hannibal’s mouth. Spat on him. 

He couldn’t exactly claim the moral high ground. But how much of that had been him? And how much of that had been Hannibal’s mind invading his? 

At least Will had enough sex to last him till the end of his life. He never had sex like that in his life. It had been terrifying and exhilarating; passion and instinct had taken over the both of them. But he had enough violence in his head already; he didn’t need it seeping into his sex life. Not that he had one. 

That night, Will dreamed. 

He dreamed of Hannibal’s dining room table. Dinner was served; dishes of elegant and borderline wasteful opulence—torn pomegranates, lobsters, racks of ribs, black grapes, pates, garlands of black garlic and at the end of the table...was Will. He laid on the table, naked, surrounded by food. 

Hannibal sat at the head, the master of the meal. He stood from his seat, towering over Will, as Will laid paralyzed and waiting. 

“Today’s meal,” Hannibal voice reverberated. His lips did not move, but Will could hear his voice echoing in his skull. “Was prepared by marinading the meat in wine.” With those words, Hannibal was unstopping a bottle of wine and pouring the liquid all over Will’s body. It flowed in the gallons. 

Faceless guests applauded. 

Will gagged, drowning in wine; it splashed into his mouth and ran down the sides of his face. However, rather than being cold--it was warm and as soft as silk—enveloping Will like a sea of blood. 

The applause of the faceless grew stronger as Hannibal raised a knife in the air. 

“Hannibal,” Will begged, desperately trying to move. “Please.” 

Hannibal’s eyes were dead. It was so obvious now Will had no idea how he had missed it. There was no soul behind them—no empathy. Will was meat to him; a pig to slaughter. 

The knife slammed down. It lodged deep in the wood, cutting through the side of Will’s throat. Blood sputtered from his neck onto the table as Will gasped for air. Unable to move, he had no choice but to stare into Hannibal’s unblinking eyes as he bled out on the table, his body twitching and jerking like a dying fish. 

The next thing he knew, Hannibal had his hand around his neck. Just as he had done to stop Abigal’s bleeding. He was over top Will, his knees on either side of Will’s hips, now soaked in wine and blood. 

Hannibal’s other arm framed Will on the table as he bent down to lick the blood off Will’s cheek. Will’s whole body shuddered with pleasure, his cock rising instantly. 

“We are one Will; your pleasure is my pleasure.” 

Suddenly Hannibal was naked and his hard member was pressing against Will’s. He pressed down for a messy, drunk, and bloody kiss as he began to stroke them together. 

The invisible hold on Will broke, and he wrapped his arms around Hannibal—pulling him down so their bodies were touching skin to skin. They were floating in blood and wine now; the table had disappeared and it was only them, intertwined and desperate. 

Then Will was inside of Hannibal; their bodies joined and fused. Will felt as if he’d melt away like chocolate into the dark pool. Hannibal was teasing Will still, rubbing Will’s nipples, tasting his mouth, licking at his still gushing wound. 

“Delicious,” Hannibal groaned in Will’s ear. “How perfect you are.” Will’s head rolled back in ecstasy as he felt his climax building—but then Hannibal grabbed him by the hair and pushed his head back farther into the dark pool. 

Will was drowning. Hannibal was still stimulating him as he held Will under. He could fill the liquid invading his lungs and screamed. 

When he woke, he was damp with sweat and cum. 

Will was late for his weekly appointment. Hannibal waited, staring at Will’s empty chair. He had Will’s clean clothes with him. All week he had wrestled with the idea of showing up at Will’s house to drop them off. 

[Hannibal's where the fuck is my emotional support Will face]

But no. That was too direct. His Patroclus was too scared. He needed to show patience right now. He needed Will to know he respected boundaries...or at least to think he respected boundaries. 

He had been sketching Will constantly. Charcoal was a poor medium to capture the shades and lighting of firelight; he should have taken a photo when Will was blindfolded. 

He was working on a sketch of Will sitting in the kitchen chair, post-orgasm and dazed. Disheveled and blind, his penis exposed and flaccid. 

His office door opened. 

“Will,” Hannibal addressed without turning, he closed the book on the sketch. “It is polite to knock...punctuality is also appreciated.” 

Hannibal’s mongoose was silent, approaching cautiously. 

“I wasn’t going to come,” Will said, his voice was even and controlled. 

You came beautifully for me three times, Hannibal thought to himself. 

“I have a 24-hour cancelation policy.” 

“I didn’t want to talk to you...I had hoped my absence would serve as a clear message of my disinterest.” 

“And yet you are here,” Hannibal stated. 

“I don’t want to give you an excuse to come to my home to drop off my clothes.” Hannibal was a creature of social structure and politeness; Will couldn’t give him any acceptable context to show up at his home. “I’d prefer this setting.” 

“Why is that?” 

“Wolf Trap is isolated.” Will was almost directly behind Hannibal, his hand extending slightly to reach for the bag of his clothes. 

“I think we should talk about your mental state,” Hannibal said, rising up from his chair. He turned to face Will—who was mere inches away—at this proximity they were breathing the air from each other's lungs. Hannibal’s eyes flickered down to Will’s mouth. Will backed up, and almost choked on a deep throated laugh. 

“My mental state?” he questioned. “Right now, it’s perhaps the clearest it has ever been.” 

“You’ve been behaving erratically,” Hannibal continued. “As your friend, I am concerned.” Will ran both his hands through his hair while turning away from Hannibal. He walked over to Hannibal’s office ladder. 

“Friends,” Will stated. “don’t do what we did.” Hannibal approached closer but kept a respectable distance. “We are not friends any longer Hannibal.” 

“I’m agree, but I will not transgress against your will and call myself your partner...or lover.” 

“As it should be.” Will leaned against the ladder, raising up his head to look at the ceiling. 

“What do you see me as then?” Hannibal asked. Will sighed and shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. 

“A colleague,” Will suggested. “A former psychiatrist.” 

“Therapy is important, Will, you need it.” Will’s eyes narrowed at Hannibal. 

“Do you mean I need it? Or that you want me to need you?” 

“Must they be mutually exclusive?” Hannibal asked, after a beat had passed. “We have been greatly beneficial to each other.” He took a couple steps forward. “The other night...” 

“Was a mistake on my part,” Will finished apologetic but defensive. “I accepted your invitation—that I will take accountability for.” Hannibal’s head cocked to one side slightly as he took another step forward. The gap between them was rapidly closing. “But I wasn’t aware of your particular tastes...” 

“If I recall correctly, there was a pretty distinct moment in which you severed our connection...and then re-kindled it—all in the aftermath of discovering my tastes,” Hannibal noted. 

The choking. The mounting. The spitting. 

“Yes well,” Will said, swallowing hard as Hannibal drew in closer. “That was a mistake as well.” 

“Will,” Hannibal said softly. “This is not the trap that you perceive it as.” Will glared at Hannibal. 

“Isn’t it?” he demanded. Will shifted and put his hands in his pockets as Hannibal stopped a few inches away from him. 

“Vorarephilia is usual but not an indicator of mental instability. Humans consume and we consummate; eating and sex are often associated with each other,” Will resisted a shudder as Hannibal slowly looked him up and down, taking in the body that was naked beneath him only days before. “My tastes are not so--” 

“Why did you share it with me?” Will cut in sharply. He felt flush and irritated again. “You could have hidden it; I _know_ you could have. You’re good at wearing a false suit.” 

“I...” Hannibal said slowly, his gaze falling to Will’s lips then back to his eyes. “I wanted you to see me.” He reached out for Will’s hand, taking it into his palm like it was a delicate animal, and placed his lips delicately on Will’s knuckles. “I cannot be dishonest with you Will; I’ve missed your warmth in the time we’ve spent apart.” 

Will searched Hannibal’s face for any emotional indicators. The man was a white wall of impassivity. He couldn’t read him. He took his hand away. 

“Hobbs is in my head already,” Will said, sighing. “I can’t fit it with any more violence.” But even as he said it, he found himself leaning forward. “I feel like if I continue with you...I’ll go insane.” 

What he had turned into that night was animalistic. The aggression that had released when the passion took him over, scared him. 

Their foreheads touched; Hannibal put one arm on the ladder, boxing Will in. They swapped breaths and body heat; Hannibal inhaled the scent of Will’s arousal. 

“Do you dream of me?” Hannibal asked, placing a hand on Will’s face. 

source: https://sirenja-and-the-stag.tumblr.com/

“Yes,” Will seethed, the mellowness he had felt now replaced with bitterness at his mind’s uncontrollable will. “Nightmares of you eating me,” he spat, scowling at Hannibal. He didn’t revel in Hannibal’s easy manipulation and mental probing. He tried to pretend his heavy breathing was just from rage. 

“Only fear?” 

“No...not only fear.” 

“What else?” Hannibal asked, stroking Will’s cheek. 

“Betrayal.” Will grabbed Hannibal’s tie and the other man responded with an approving deep inhale of air. “Anger.” 

“Tell me more.” Their breathing had synchronized to be low and heavy. The space between them was only about the width of a book, but it felt like a cavernous valley. Both men painfully aware of the span of distance preventing their bodies from pressing into each other. 

“Hunger.” The words came wrenched out from the back of Will’s throat like the last gurgling cry of a dying animal. “But it’s not _me._ It’s you in my head.” 

“Hmm,” Hannibal pondered. “Not yet.” His thumb went from its place on Will’s cheek to Will’s glowering mouth, lazily tracing the creased pink curves. He pulled down a part of Will’s lower lip to rub against the profiler’s molars, and then wrenched open the jaw to traced his thumb over the rough ridges of Will’s teeth. “You are my last appointment tonight. You are always my last appointment.” 

Will could only make small grunts and sharp exhales in response, as Hannibal had inserted his pointer finger along with his thumb and was rubbing Will’s tongue like he was feeling a piece of fabric. Vaguely, Will felt like he was at the dentist...only his dentist never gave him a partial boner. 

Will closed his mouth, softly pressing his teeth against Hannibal’s finger in a light bite. 

“At least once more,” Hannibal whispered, his face soft and close. “I’d like to know you carnally. You may toss me aside at any time, my heart will break, my mouth will miss you, but I will not persist...stay with me Will.” 

Will teetered on the edge of sanity and instinct. He grabbed Hannibal by the wrist and pulled his hand away from his mouth. 

“Let’s go to your home,” Will said. 

Hannibal fell upon Will, slamming him against the ladder and kissing him savagely. Their bodies fell together, fabric rubbing against fabric as hands scrambled to find purchase. 

“I will drive us,” Hannibal said when he pulled away—his breathing deep. Will nodded numbly. 

“Alright.” 

They said nothing during the drive. Hannibal kept a hand on Will’s thigh while Will aimlessly nubbed the back of his hand and wrist. The occasional glance was stolen but virtually all their concentration was on the road and within their own minds. 

Hannibal unlocked the door and entered first, taking off his coat. Will wandered in after him, feeling slightly dazed, and walked over to the small table in the middle of the entrance hall. A daunting sense of dread swept over him once he breeched the precipice of Hannibal’s threshold; somehow, Hannibal had gotten him right where he wanted him. Again. 

Then a predatory tingle ran down Will’s spine as he sensed Hannibal looming behind him. He was afraid to look back. The air seemed to shift. It was like Hannibal had removed his person suit, and if Will turned around, he’d witness the true Hannibal. 

Hannibal, Will realized, had not turned on the lights. It was dark in the main entrance—the only light coming from the open doorway to the outside. That light slowly disappeared as Hannibal closed the door, and then locked it. 

Will felt as if he was trapped in his dream, paralyzed on Hannibal's dining table. 

Step. Step. Step. 

Hannibal was getting closer, taking a slow methodical approach. The hairs on Will’s neck raised as he felt a breath hit his skin. 

What _is_ he, Will’s mind screamed? 

Instinctively his hand itched to grab the gun tucked into the hem of his pants. 

“May I take your coat Will?” Hannibal asked. Will nodded and obediently shrugged off his coat, which Hannibal delicately slid off. The gun was exposed now. “You won’t need this,” Hannibal said, and the gun was lifted out of Will’s hemline. 

Then Hannibal’s presence receded as he went to put their coats away. A single shot dominated Will’s mind: 

_I am going to die._

He had no weapon. Nobody knew he was here. Hannibal had driven them so Will had no car to escape with. 

Will turned and bee-lined for the door, jiggling the knob. This time he couldn’t unlock it. It had been locked with a key this time where the other night it had only been locked using the secondary door bolt. A cold chill rippled through the air. 

“Will,” Hannibal called, his voice thin and metallic. “Please, join me in the bedroom upstairs. The door at the end of the hall.” 

Will waited till he was sure Hannibal had gone and turned around. He was alone in the dark. Taking in a deep breath, he calmed himself and then began to ascend the stairs after Hannibal. 

The door at the end of the hall dominated Will’s vision. He approached slowly, his mind reeling through images of Hannibal attacking him. Would Jack even find his body? Maybe not. 

At last, he reached the door and opened it. He paused before entering, half expecting Hannibal to pounce on him, then walked into the bedroom. 

There was a desk by the large curtained windows. The heavy curtains had been drawn back, allowing moonlight magnified by the white snow to stream in. Hannibal was sitting and sketching, awash with tranquility. He was wearing a dark grey robe with white lining; it looked practically black in the moonlight. 

“Come closer Will, I wish to show you something.” Will approached tepidly. He could see a scalpel resting on the desk beside several sharpened charcoal pencils. 

Drawings of Florence were scattered on the table. 

“Have you been to Florence?” Hannibal asked. His face was bathed in moonlight, casting his hair in a silver ethereal glow. 

“No.” Hannibal held up a sketch of Giotto's Campanile and Will was caught in the way it came alive against the window light. 

“It is beautiful,” Hannibal said, but he was looking at Will when he said it. “One day, I should like to walk with you down to the Piazza del Duomo in the evening.” He set down the sketch, touched Will on the hand, and then kissed his fingers. “Are you nervous?” 

Will glanced at the scalpel, and then at the scene of Hannibal and his art basking in white, radiant, serenity. Underneath his robe, Hannibal was nude, and Will could glimpse the pale peaks of Hannibal’s chest. Hannibal cocked his head to one side, a devilish but reassuring smile on his face. 

“You are,” Hannibal stated. “Come now, it is alright. Touch me as you like.” He pulled Will down by the wrist, rolling his head back so that Will could kiss him from above. Unable to resist, Will ran his hand down Hannibal's hair covered chest to feel him. At the same time, Hannibal’s legs shifted and the hem of his robe slipped down his leg—revealing muscular thighs and his half-hardened manhood.

The dam of inhibition broke in Will’s mind. 

Will pulled out Hannibal’s chair, and knelt in front of him. He burrowed his face into the crevice of Hannibal’s legs and Hannibal encouragingly petted the back of Will’s head as Will took Hannibal’s cock in his hands. It smelled of musk and soap. 

Will took Hannibal in his mouth, causing Hannibal to release a delicious gasp as he ran his fingers through Will’s curls. Tuffs of hair fell onto Will’s face as he slid his mouth up and down Hannibal’s meat. Hannibal lovingly swept them aside to better look at Will’s beautiful face devouring him. The older man’s fingers partly itched to pick up his pencil to sketch the sight as it happened. The lurid image of Will sucking on his cock with all reservations abandoned for lust. His own Eve, biting the forbidden fruit. 

Instead, he picked up the scalpel and slashed a thin cut across Will’s cheek. The pain and suddenness made Will’s teeth slip into Hannibal’s sensitive skin. He hissed, but it was a hiss of both pain and pleasure. 

“Revenge,” Hannibal said, putting the scalpel down. “For busting my nose yesterday.” The blood trickled tempestuously down Will’s cheek like a tear and Hannibal wiped it away before putting his hand back on Will’s head. 

He angled Will’s head to take him deeper, all the while giving encouraging squeezes and caresses to Will’s scalp to show his pleasure. Saliva and pre-come dribbled down Hannibal’s fleshy, veined cock with every jerk of Will’s head. 

He couldn’t take all of Hannibal into him; deepthroating wasn’t a skill he had like Hannibal. So, he wrapped his fingers around the base of Hannibal's cock which was now sticky with liquids, and began to stroke and massage in sync with his head rhythm. 

As Hannibal expected, Will was a natural pleaser. He was eagerly testing Hannibal’s cock for weaknesses and pleasure spots—licking the slit of Hannibal’s cock, teasing the folds of the head, swirling his tongue around the shaft. All the while, he performed with absolute focus. A more attentive partner could not have been found. 

Then with his other free hand, Will pressed Hannibal’s thighs farther apart and massaged Hannibal’s taint, rewarding him with a tight mouthed gasp from Hannibal. 

“Good,” Hannibal encouraged. Will’s eyes rolled up to meet Hannibal’s: big, brown, and hazy with lust. Will’s thumb slipped lower, massaging at Hannibal’s entrance which had grown slick from the dripping saliva. A thin smile formed on Hannibal’s face. “Go on,” he allowed. 

Will did so, pressing into Hannibal as he orally pleasured him. Hannibal let his head roll back to relish in the sweetness of his lover’s undivided and through attention. 

“Ah,” he said. “What a good boy you are.” Will nodded into Hannibal’s cock. Wanting to reward his little lover, Hannibal pressed his toes against Will’s musty crotch. It was slightly damp, and burning hot with need. “Do you want to use this on me?” Hannibal asked. 

Again, Will nodded into Hannibal's cock—his mouth still lusciously pleasuring the older man while his fingers worked. He was like a puppy, so dedicated and eager. Hannibal could not help but want to fulfil his wish. But first, he wanted to come on Will’s face. 

“Make me climax and I will consider it,” Hannibal said. Will kept up with his pace, milking Hannibal while fingering Hannibal's dripping hole. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead from the effort; his hair was beginning to stick to his face. From above, Hannibal watched as Will’s lips darkened from the chafing of rubbing up and down his cock. The corners of Will’s mouth grew slightly red from the strain of opening wide, and Hannibal reveled in the thought of Will’s jaw straining painfully. 

He pressed down harder on Will’s cock, offering him slight pleasure in return for the pain. Will moaned on Hannibal’s cock and the noise sent delicious vibrations down his phallus. It took all of Hannibal’s restraint to not thrust himself into the deep, warm, embrace of Will’s throat. 

“Soon,” Hannibal warned Will, but Will’s pace did not slow. He went faster, encouraging Hannibal to climax. Hannibal dug his hands into Will’s hair as his orgasm approached and then wrenched Will off of him—spilling his semen all over Will’s face. It looked similar to how Hobb’s blood had looked splattered on Will’s face. 

Breathing heavy, the younger man pulled away and fell back against the desk for support. He coughed and inhaled deep breaths. 

“Fuck,” Will gasped. “I thought I was going to suffocate.” He sat up and hung his head, running a hand over his sore neck. “Damn.” 

“Been a while for you?” Hannibal asked. 

“Last time was in grad school,” Will scoffed, he wiped Hannibal’s come off his face with the back of his hand. Then he stared into Hannibal’s eyes as he licked it. “Come still taste like shit.” 

A smile quirked on Hannibal’s face. His foot was still on Will’s crotch, and he gave a soft nudge. Will shuddered and threw his back against the desk. 

“What was your dream?” Hannibal asked. 

“Christ,” Will swore, but he was opening his legs wider for Hannibal to get a better purchase of his crotch as he swore. “I told you that you weren’t my sex therapist.” 

“So, they were sex dreams,” Hannibal confirmed, rewarding Will with another delicate push of pressure. 

“Yes,” Will confessed. Hannibal leaned back in his chair, enjoying the view of Will desperate and squirming beneath his foot. “You had served me to a dinner party.” 

“Hmm...” Hannibal pondered. It wasn’t a bad idea. 

“I was naked, covered in wine. Drowning in it practically. You cut open my throat and I was bleeding out. You had to choke me to stop the bleeding.” 

Hannibal leaned forward slightly. 

“And?” he encouraged. 

“I couldn’t move. Then you were on top of me...” Will stopped to bite back a groan as Hannibal pressed down again. “I was inside you,” Will panted. “And then...” Will’s teeth flashed lusciously as he threw his head back in the process of biting back another moan as the ball of Hannibal’s foot pressed into his cock. “And then you drowned me.” 

“I see...” Hannibal said thoughtfully. “Perhaps you were experiencing lingering guilt about trying to asphyxiate me.” 

Hannibal rose to his feet and swept a hand over his hair. He reached down and held Will’s chin in his palm, gently guiding the other man to rise as well. 

“Were you trying to kill me?” Hannibal asked, placing a hand on the desk on one side of Will. The scalpel gleamed in the moonlight close by, now tinted red with Will’s blood. 

Will’s eyes narrowed; fear and anger flicked behind them. He leaned back and put his hands on the desk, one hand nearly touching the scalpel. 

“Do you want to kill me?” Hannibal could smell his own come on Will’s mouth; it mixed filthily with Will’s breath and the stench of blood. 

“If only I could bear the ache of your absence.” 

“That’s not an answer.” Hannibal ran a finger down the button of Will’s shirt, distracting Will as he slipped the scalpel into his hand. 

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. Will’s eyes had hardened, and his panting was no longer just from lust. There was rage there, along with panic. 

Will’s hand jerked back to grab the scalpel, only to find nothing, just as Hannibal pulled him into a kiss. Both men groaned as they pressed their mouths together. Hannibal grabbed Will by the torso, pulling the younger man’s swollen crotch against his thigh, before raising his leg slightly to rub into Will’s cock. 

Will wrenched Hannibal away, breaking them apart. He then shoved him back and turned to the desk where the scalpel should have been. He picked up drawings, searching for it, as Hannibal grabbed Will by the back of his collar. 

Scalpel in hand, he ripped down the fabric of Will’s shirt. Will whirled around to face him. 

“Now Will,” Hannibal said innocently. He tossed the scalpel aside and raising up both hands, as if he had no idea how Will’s shirt got ripped in the first place. “Let's remain calm.” He backed away slightly, getting closer to the bed. 

“Oh, you motherfucker,” Will gritted. He tackled Hannibal into the bed and for a moment they wrestled for dominance. Each man, narrowly pinned the other. Hannibal came out on top. Will again tried to go in for the head-butt, but Hannibal expected it his time and moved out of the way. Struggling against each other, Hannibal wrestled Will’s hands above his head and held them down by the wrists with one hand. 

“Will,” Hannibal chided, as he pulled the silk tie from his robe. “Is that any way to treat your psychiatrist?” 

“Oh, fuck you!” Will spat. 

“Yes, that is the whole point,” Hannibal agreed. “You know...your behavior recently has been very erratic. I think I told you this already, yes?” 

“My behavior?” Will demanded. “You cut me. You were going to stab me!” Hannibal shrugged. 

“Possibly,” he admitted. He’d have done it in a non-lethal area. “Now,” Hannibal said as he undid Will’s pants. “Do you want to continue or not?” 

“Untie me and we’ll see,” Will seethed. 

“Ah but Will,” Hannibal corrected. “This is all your design. You were immobile in your dream remember.” He freed Will’s cock from his pants, it was still hard and pulsing with need. “Hmm...But you were also naked weren’t you.” 

Grabbing two fistfuls of fabric, Hannibal ripped off the buttons of Will’s shirt to reveal Will’s heaving chest—vibrating with rage. 

“And now the pants.” Hannibal pressed his forearm down on Will’s chest as he rolled off Will to pull the man’s pants and boxers. Will struggled slightly, but was otherwise docile for the process. Hannibal had to hide his smirk; only Will’s hands were tied, it wasn’t like he couldn’t truly try to get up if he wanted too. Hannibal got back on top of Will, straddling his younger lover’s lovely hips. He pulled a bottle of lubricant from the bedroom stand, slicking his fingers. 

“What even am I to you?” Will demanded. Hannibal lovingly stroking lube over Will’s cock. The preparation Will had done on him in the chair had been enjoyable, but sloppy and shallow. 

“You’re an empath Will, surely you know the answer to that.” 

“A fuck buddy?” 

“Oh Will,” Hannibal tutted as he inserted lubricant into himself. “How will you ever catch the Ripper with that level of shallow thinking? I am going to insert you now,” Hannibal explained. 

“Fine,” Will gritted. Hannibal’s mouth quirked again. He lowered himself onto Will, reveling in how Will greedily watched the process. 

“Ah,” Hannibal groaned as Will’s member stretched him out. “I am sorry I do not have wine, my darling.” He kissed Will’s neck, pressing their bodies together, and began to move. Will squirmed with pleasure beneath him. Instinctively, Will’s hips began to move, his feet scrambling to find purchase on which to thrust deeper into Hannibal. The psychiatrist chuckled and leaned down to whisper in Will’s ear, “Go slow Will, let me enjoy you.” 

Will shuddered and went limp and submissive. 

Soon they found a pleasant rhythm. In all honesty, it was hard to say who was fucking who. Will was looking more and more wrecked by the minute, and Hannibal kept his arms pinned down above his head. Will tossed his head to one side, panting heavy. Hannibal jumped on the opportunity to nuzzled in the crook of Will’s neck. 

“Exquisite,” Hannibal whispered in Will’s ear, as he licked and sucked on Will’s lobe. 

“Shit,” Will groaned, his toes curling. “Shit, shit, shit.” 

Hannibal was so much better than any other woman he had been with. Will felt like he was melting. God, he could have buried himself in Hannibal for hours. Every time Hannibal rocked back on his cock; his whole lower half turned to warm putty and tendrils of electricity shot up his spine like fireworks. 

Hannibal let go of Will’s wrists to grab him by the jaw, pulling him into a kiss while Hannibal’s other hands buried into Will’s scalp. 

Will struggled against his ties, rubbing his wrists together to loosen the bonds, until finally the silk cloth fell loose and he was free. While Hannibal deep throated Will with his tongue, Will ripped off the tattered remains of his shirt. Then Will sunk his nails into Hannibal’s shoulders and flipped them over so that Hannibal was pinned beneath him. 

He yanked Hannibal’s legs up, allowing him deeper access to plunge into sweetness, and rolled his hips into the psychiatrist. Hannibal responded by wrapping his arms around Will’s back. 

“Good Will, good,” Hannibal approved, meeting Will’s thrusts with his own. Like every other part of Will, his cock was delicious and perfect. Hannibal relished with carnal delight each needy roll of Will’s hips into him, allowing him to access every part of his core. 

“Fuck,” Will swore, he slammed his fist into the headboard above Hannibal. “I feel like I’m melting.” Hannibal wiped the sweaty hair from Wills face and kissed him on the forehead. 

“Yes,” he whispered. “Let us melt into one.” Ripples of pleasure cascaded through them as their bodies merged. Each man moaning with sweet gratification, as they synchronized and breathed in the scent of sex and musk. 

Hannibal grabbed one of Will’s hands and placed it on his own cock, encouraging Will to stroke him as his climax neared. Will obliged, and leaned in to re-join him and Hannibal's lips. The heat between them built to an inferno and both men came undone at the same time. They panted at each other mouths. 

[Source: mendelsohnben ](https://mendelsohnben.tumblr.com/post/127987198477/a-complete-commemorative-collection-of-all-the)

Hannibal nuzzled against Will’s forehead, as his lover gulped down large doses of air and basked in the afterglow of orgasm. 

“Likti mielasis,” Hannibal said softly. 

“What does that mean?” Will panted. Hannibal’s eyes hopefully met Will’s. 

“Stay...darling.” 

Will rolled off Hannibal and collapsed onto the bed. A part of him wanted to laugh. Hannibal had driven him here, locked him it, ripped his clothes to shreds, and now had the balls to beg Will to stay after getting drained of cum twice? 

It was Hannibal leading conversations all over again. Asking questions, he knew the answer to just to make Will feel a part of the conversation. Begging Will to stay, just to make Will feel like he had a choice. Still, he couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t nice to hear Hannibal beg. 

“Fine,” Will conceded, rising up to a sitting position. “First I need to shower the stench of cum off me.” Hannibal grinned as he gazed upon his lover, and moved in for a kiss. Will stopped him. “We’re not there yet.” 

“We will be,” Hannibal said, still smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All those naysayers who say that Hannibal is too much of a top to ever bottom underestimate his thirst to have Will’s meat inside him and I will die on this hill. 
> 
> Like the tags say, Hannibal is ambiguously evil. So you can interpret him as the Ripper if you like. Or you can interpret him as just a non-murdering, manipulative, hyper intelligent, vore kink lover who enjoys fucking with Will. 
> 
> Pls leave comments if you can :)  
> I don't do a lot of fic writing and this is the one I've worked the hardest at, despite the fandom not being very active right now. I got sucked into this rabbit hole late in the game lol. Even a keyboard smash to know people are reading is appreciated!


	6. Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not edited yet so heads up for bad grammar. I shall get to it in a bit.

The next morning, Will woke up in Hannibal’s arms. Wakefulness came slowly to Will; he couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so soundly.

Hannibal’s bare chest was pressed against the skin of Will’s back, warm and comforting, while one of the doctor's hands lazily draped over Will’s stomach. The sheets smelled like them. Being together like this was simultaneously as surreal as a fever dream and as natural as breathing.

How many times had they had sex last night? There was the desk blow job and the bed sex. Will had showered...then Hannibal had joined him—pinning him against the shower walls and ravaging him while their groans and breathing rose with the steam. Eventually they fell back into bed.

Will propped himself up on an elbow and ran a hand through his hair; brown locks spilled onto his face in soft tuffs. It was still early, but some sunlight had begun to peak through the window and the room was filled with a warm glow.

Everything seemed strange in the daylight. Firelight, moonlight, darkness...all those were fitting for them. The rays of morning though, that was a light reserved for lovers and couples of matrimonies. It was hardly fitting for two men covered in bruises, bitemarks, and hand prints.

He twisted and glanced down at his sexual partner. Hannibal’s eyes were peacefully closed, his body relaxed and his breathing slow and steady.

“You are awake,” Will stated.

The doctor’s eyes opened instantly, like a light switch turning on.

“Good morning, Will. How did you sleep?”

Will’s whole body felt sore; he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck and rolled his head from side to side. He needed a shave.

“Sleeping was fine...once we eventually got there.”

At some point they had fallen into unconsciousness, and evidently Hannibal had pulled Will into an embrace.

Hannibal slowly ran a large, warm hand up the curve of Will’s back and stopped at the base of the neck where Will was massaging. The doctor rolled up to a seating position and pulled Will’s hand aside, replacing it with his own massaging fingers. He pressed firmly and expertly upon Will’s muscles and flesh, tenderizing it.

“It is the weekend Will,” Hannibal said. “Why not stay in a bit?”

Will allowed it, letting himself relax and slump forward under Hannibal’s hands.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Will said. Distantly he was thinking about his exit strategy, but the thought seemed to sputter out as Hannibal’s massage pulled him into a state of serenity. “Do you think the Ripper takes weekends off?”

“Perhaps he will.”

A thought struck Will.

“Is this why you plan our therapy sessions on Friday evening?”

“No, but it certainly worked in my favor...in both our favors,” Hannibal corrected.

“Hmm...” Will mumbled. He had turned to putty in Hannibal’s hands. An overwhelming sense of security and bliss had cascaded over his body with every tender caress of Hannibal’s palms and fingers. Even so, he couldn’t fully forget who he was with. “Were you going to stab me last night?” Will asked.

It wasn’t an angry question. The casualness of it would have puzzled any onlooker, but to them it was natural.

Hannibal kissed the base of Will’s neck and pulled the profiler back to rest against his chest. The doctor wrapped his arms around Will, who was docile and thoughtful. Next thing Will knew, he was nestled in Hannibal’s embrace, bare legs framing him and a solid wall of chest supporting him up. Will’s ruffled head of brown hair was tucked under Hannibal’s chin. It felt good. Being held, and holding—it felt right.

“Occasionally,” Hannibal explained. “I get an urge to act in a way that is unorthodox, as do we all.” Will half scoffed, half chuckled.

“One could argue that you’re trying to downplay your aberrant behavior.” Hannibal’s hands began to roam across Will’s body, tracing lazily over Will’s sun lit illuminated skin. Will resisted the urge to shudder.

“What is aberrant and what is normal is determined by cultural agreement. On a micro-level this extends to family customs...couples as well.” Will sighed, breathing in the smell of Hannibal on the inhale. He felt too relaxed to rise to the banter. Plus, Hannibal’s roaming hands were becoming...distracting.

Hannibal had started out innocent, tracing Will’s collarbone and shoulders. Then the fingers had drifted lower, gliding down to Will’s chest and sternum. A flush bloomed up Will’s skin as the hands went below Will’s ribs to investigate the cervices of his thighs.

“You have odd interests Dr. Lector,” Will said, his voice low and tinged with breathlessness. “A washed-up profiler with anti-social tendencies and...” Will paused to bite on a groan as a wave of pleasure rippled up his spine. “And nary an accolade to his name.”

It wasn’t insecurity that pushed Will to speak; it was curiosity and suspicion. Hannibal was a man of impeccable tastes—his choice in partners should have been no exception. If there was another scheme in the works, Will wanted to know.

“And yet I have felt temptation from day one,” Hannibal whispered into his lover’s ear. Will didn’t fully register what Hannibal had said. His head rolled to the side and his mouth fell open with a gasp as Hannibal stoked him. The profiler’s trepidation and shyness had melted away and he let his breathing naturally deepen.

The contrast between the man who Hannibal had to blindfold to touch, and the panting faun splayed below him while drenched in morning light was beautiful. Will was art—a canvas upon which Hannibal painted with every caress and stroke.

“Give me your mouth,” Hannibal said. Will lifted his face to Hannibal. Their eyes locked, both hazy with lust. For a moment, their lips flirted against each other, their breathing low and steady. Will was hesitant, and Hannibal sensed it, so he held himself back—not allowing himself the fruit he so desired.

Then Will put his hand upon Hannibal’s face and pulled him down. Initially, it was chaste and light, then Will parted his lips and slipped his tongue into Hannibal’s. Hannibal’s body seemed to shudder with appreciation—at last granted access to the ambrosia he so craved. They tasted each other deeply, kissing slow but passionately. Hannibal held on tightly to Will, like he feared Will may try to leave.

“Your mouth,” Hannibal breathed, stopping momentarily. “God your mouth.”

Will couldn’t keep a smile from gracing his lips.

“You’re a mess Dr. Lector.” He rose from Hannibal’s arms. Initially, the doctor was resistant to the idea of Will leaving his embrace, but gradually Will pulled away. The profiler rolled out of Hannibal’s lap and onto his back, then he grabbed Hannibal by the wrist and guided him on top. The weight of Hannibal’s solid body pressing down on Will was both comforting and inflaming. Their warmth pooled together as they merged, creating a soft hum of comfort.

Their mouths re-joined. Will’s engorged cock, made extra sensitive from Hannibal’s caressing, rubbed against the other man’s stomach. Hannibal’s own erection was at Will’s thigh. Will parted his legs, letting Hannibal’s body nuzzled into the crevice of his thighs, and the two fit together like a puzzle. Gently they rocked against each other, enjoying the pleasant but low-stimulating pleasure of flesh on flesh as they kissed.

Hannibal pushed the brown tuffs of hair off of Will’s face, and then massaged his fingers into Will’s scalp. Will gasped against Hannibal’s mouth and then, feeling a little vengeful after being a recipient of Hannibal’s one-sided pleasuring, he reached down and began to stroke Hannibal. The doctor hissed softly, breaking away from the kiss, and nuzzling Will’s neck where he sucked gently. Will shuddered with pleasure, and then the image of Hannibal ripping into Will’s neck with his teeth smashed into his mind.

For a minute, the reality of who he was with took him away, but he gradually returned. Hannibal was being gentle, sucking on Will’s neck so softly. Like Will was glass. He was trying to be good, trying not to scare Will, to make Will stay. Maybe it was all manipulation, Will understood that was a definite possibility. However, there was no denying the tight little spark of pleasure that ran through Will when he thought about how obedient Hannibal was being to please him.

“Bite,” Will said, his voice deep.

Hannibal’s eyes flickered up to meet Will’s. _You sure?_ He seemed to ask.

“Not too hard,” Will warned. The doctor opened his mouth, his teeth touching Will’s delicate skin, and then he sunk them down. It was more pressure than pleasure at first, then the pressure gave way to light pain. Hannibal’s erection got larger in Will’s hand and he pressed deeper against Will, seeking more pleasure. Will winced a little from the pain, but he endured it.

One of Hannibal’s hands sought out Will free hand, and he laced their fingers together, pinning Will’s hand down beside his head and intertwining them even further together. Hannibal finished his biting and sucked on the mark he left—the dull ache mixed with the sucking sensation for a new form of gratification that made Will breathy. He squeezed Hannibal's hand, wanting to convey his approval, and the doctor reciprocated.

With his other free hand, Hannibal reached down between them and slipped his fingers to Will’s entrance. He rubbed his fingers against the tight hole, requesting access. The massage made Will’s insides throb with need.

“Okay,” he nodded, taking a breath. “You may.” For the briefest of moments, Hannibal broke away to get the lubricant from the bed stand. It wasn’t far, they had used it plenty last night. He slicked up some fingers and then returned to kiss his lover. The profiler was still a little soft inside from where he had been penetrated last night, it made opening him up easier. However, the embarrassment was still there.

Will bit down on his lip, when Hannibal’s fingers slipped into him. He closed his eyes and rolled his head to one side, holding back a curse.

Hannibal took in the sight of his flushed, shy partner. Lovely as it was to see Will fighting the instinct to find pleasure in being penetrated, he did not revel in it for long. Will would get hurt if he did not relax.

The doctor wrapped his arms under Will, one arm supporting his back and the other his neck. He lifted them both a seating position, with Will straddling the doctor. It was so that Will was hugging Hannibal, and Hannibal in turn had his arms wrapped around Will’s lower body as he worked Will open.

“Relax,” Hannibal whispered in Will’s ear.

“I...I’m trying,” Will said tensely.

“You are not submitting,” Hannibal assured him. “We are blurring.”

Will could feel Hannibal’s aroused manhood pressing against him. Equally needy for release, he rocked against Hannibal, shifting up and down on his knees to push against the other man. In doing so, he pushed Hannibal’s fingers deeper inside. Christ, it felt incredible.

He felt like a dog in heat, instinct taking over his mind as he sought only to stroke the flames within. He no longer cared how he sounded or looked, focusing only on the sweet warmth emanating from his prostate and cock. He looked down at Hannibal with misty eyes.

He was _staring_. The doctor hair was still loose from last night activities and a night of sleep; however, even in a state of nudity and dishevelment he looked composed. It pissed Will off.

Will wrapped a hand around Hannibal’s neck, pressing delicately but firmly. He locked Hannibal’s head in place, so that he had to look up at Will.

“Go deeper,” Will ordered. Hannibal deep eyes cut right through him.

They both felt the tremor of pleasure ripple through Will’s body when Hannibal found Will’s prostate. Will panted deliciously, open mouthed and shuddering through each wave of stimulation. He watched Hannibal eyes, so typically serene and cold, flicker with need. He was hungry to enter Will.

The sight brought Will ardent satisfaction. He smirked and licked his lips, causing a subtle pained look in Hannibal eyes as he stated at Will delicious mouth.

“You want to skewer me?” Will asked, grabbing Hannibal by his cock. “With this.” He squeezed down on Hannibal with a grip that bordered on pain. Hannibal inhaled sharply, and closed his eyes. “Look at me,” Will growled, tightening his grip on Hannibal’s neck. The doctor’s maroon eyes shot open. “What do you see?” Will asked.

Hannibal drank in the sight of Will, who was now well stretched and greedy taking in Hannibal’s fingers. His lover was domineering and enraged, while simultaneously desperate and intoxicated with desire. He licked his dry lips.

“I see...” Hannibal said slowly, as Will angled the other man’s cock to his slick entrance. “A panting bitch in need of breeding.”

Hannibal’s cock slid into Will. The long-awaited connection made them both groan. The two men immediately fell into a frenzied pace. Hannibal trying to burrow as deep as he could into Will’s core, and Will in turn seeking to carve out his pleasure with Hannibal's member. Using him like a tool to orgasm upon.

“Shit,” Will spat, furious with how full and satisfying Hannibal felt inside him. Every slick rock of his hips down onto the other man made his feel drunk and alive. “Fucking bastard.”

Meanwhile, Hannibal was holding on tightly to Will’s muscular back. He could feel the blood rushing beneath the skin. He breathed in the scent of their combined arousal and sighed with satisfaction. Will was wildly milking Hannibal for every drop. He groaned as he accepted Will’s carnal desire; it was like making love to a wild animal.

He grabbed Will’s other hand and placed it on his own neck, encouraging Will to strangle him with both hands. Will kept his fingers mostly wrapped around the back of his partner's neck, but kept his thumbs pressed down on Hannibal’s vocal cords.

Their eyes locked as they fed off each other’s passion. Will pressed his forehead against Hannibal’s and the two men breathed in each other’s gasps. The room was filled with the noise of their satisfaction—skin hitting skin, groaning, shivering grunts, and deep inhales of breath. Their bodies melded.

“Delicious,” Hannibal breathed. He raised his mouth, opening it slightly in invitation for Will to kiss him. Will considered his partner’s proposition for a moment, his face impassive. Then he decided to reward his lover. His cock was so sweet after all. Will leaned down and locked their mouths together.

Hannibal’s arms tightened around Will when their tongues clashed. He inhaled sharply and then ran one hand up to grab the back of Will’s head, burying his fingers into tuffs of brown hair.

Again, Will was struck with the frightening feeling that Hannibal wanted to devour him. That Hannibal was going to rip his tongue out with his teeth and swallow it. His body stiffened slightly, causing him to tighten around Hannibal in a manner most sinful. The doctor responded by sinking his nails into Will’s scalp. His hand, which had previously been flat against Will’s back, curled into a claw and Will felt the slight pain of nails scraping against skin.

Will’s hands tightened a warning pulse around Hannibal’s throat and he choked slightly, eliciting a deep throated grumble from Hannibal. The doctor smirked against his lover’s lips.

“Only fantasizing mielasis,” he purred.

“So am I,” Will stated. He could have choked Hannibal to death—right here and now. He had the feeling that Hannibal would have let him—would have even encouraged him. That Hannibal’s erection would have never lost its arousal even whilst he gasped for his last breath.

The thought made Will’s head spin.

Both men were rapidly approaching their climax, now thoroughly lost in each other. Will’s pleasure was Hannibal’s, and Hannibal’s was Will’s.

In a final bid to bury himself as deep as possible into Will, Hannibal ripped Will off of him like a leech and threw him back into the bed. He tossed one of Will’s legs up, and thrust in deep. The change of position made Will furious, but the pounding into the sheets drowned out all protests. He rolled his head back as Hannibal stroked his needy cock—teasing the head and slicking if fully with Will’s own dripping cum.

A bead of sweat rolled down Hannibal’s cheek and slid off his chin, landing on Will’s chest, which was also shiny with perspiration. The older man grabbed onto the headboard of his bed, his arm muscular arm tight with possessive tension, and said a prayer of thanks for Danish furniture. A lesser bed would have been rocking like mad at the pummeling.

Will’s cock twitched, a sure sign of oncoming orgasm, and Hannibal paced himself to come undone just as white come spilled from Will’s urethra.

They were both panting hard. Hannibal loomed over Will momentarily, considering if the other man would allow him to press against him in their post-orgasmic bliss. Will met Hannibal’s uncertain eyes, and answered for him. He raised a hand to his lover's neck, gently this time, and pulled him down into an embrace. Hannibal buried his head in the curve of Will’s shoulder and sighed with deep contentment.

“This pace could kill us,” Will deadpanned, completely exhausted. He did not want to even imagine the number of kiss marks, scratches, and bruises that must have covered his body.

“Not a bad way to go,” Hannibal mumbled into Will’s neck. He kissed it softly.

“You seem very experienced with men,” Will commented.

“Ah yes,” Hannibal said, breaking away from Will to prop himself up on one elbow. He craved the skin to skin contact of Will, but also knew that the weight of another man on top of him made it hard for Will to breath. “I had quite the prolific young adulthood.” He began to trace lazy circles across Will’s chest. “When I was a young man in my twenties, I became quite taken with a number of older women of good tastes. They made for good company when going to operas, symphonies, and the theater. I learned much about art from them and they from me.”

Will raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing across his face.

“You were arm candy?”

“My dear Will,” Hannibal said. “I was Cartier.” Will snorted and rolled his head with laughter. A sight most beautiful to see.

“Yes, yes, I am sure.”

“I do recall one woman who was most interested in exploring the world of male pleasure. We dabbled and it was educational. But you see...she was a married woman.”

“The scandal!” Will exclaimed, but softly because he was tired. “Not only arm candy but a mistress as well.” Hannibal smirked.

“Never let it be said I partook in a relationship in which all parties were not comfortable. They were...I believe the phrase is...open in their marriage. Well, it just so happened that this lover of mine had a very special birthday wish she wanted granted—to watch another man have sex with her husband. I found I was not opposed to the idea and thus, my first foray into sodomy came to be.”

“Hmm...” Will hummed, his eyes closed in quiet contemplation. “That is much more exciting than masturbating to James Bond as a teenager and getting pissed drunk in college just to muster up the courage for a hand job.”

“Yet we are in the same bed.”

“True enough,” Will conceded. He took a deep breath and stretched his arms out. “The dogs need let out,” he stated.

“Stay for breakfast.”

“It’s almost the afternoon.” They had lost track of time.

“Brunch then,” Hannibal compromised.

“Another time,” Will said, rising from the bed.

“Should I take that offer seriously?” Hannibal inquired. Will paused in trying to find his pants.

“Why not.”

“Dinner then?” Will chuckled dryly and ran a hand through his hair.

“Yes,” he answered. “Let’s do dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the readers who made it this far. A lil comment would be appreciated. This was a blast to write :)


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